“Thor” (2011)

Thor director Kenneth Branagh has claimed in more than one interview that his comic book adaptation is somehow “Shakespearean”.  Anthony Hopkins, improbably cast as the fighting fit deity Odin, endorses the opinion.  The once respected greats of British stage and screen thus shamelessly prostitute their talents for another Hollywood payday.  It reminds me of that line in Godard’s Contempt, delivered by philistine American producer Jack Palance: “Every time I hear the word ‘culture’, I reach for my cheque book”.

Presumably Thor can be compared to the Bard because, like Hamlet, it features fathers and sons.  The title character might be god of thunder but while his respected pappy reigns in the shiny kingdom of Asgard he remains second fiddle.  Arrogant and foolhardy, Thor and his cronies look to enhance their reputations by picking a fight with Asgard’s mortal enemies, the Frost Giants.  Odin takes a dim view of this, banishing him to 21st century earth as an extended ‘time-out’.  Daddy also takes away his favourite toy, an all powerful magic hammer.

The news isn’t entirely bad.  Upon arrival Thor collides with a truck driven by Natalie Portman.  Playing a vague scientist type, she’s a good deal hotter than any of the goddesses from his neck of the woods.  Impressed by Thor’s naive ways, chivalrous charm and rock solid abdominal muscles Nat casts off all the scepticism of her profession and embraces Norse mythology instead.

The film might be based on ancient legends by way of Marvel comics but it’s hard not to see the influence of Peter Jackson and Professor Tolkien as well.  It’s a poor man’s Lord of the Rings, beginning with the same kind of portentously narrated backstory and CGI battle scenes.  Tony Hopkins has the Welsh lilt for the former yet hardly the physical presence to wield a sword.  As Thor, pretty boy Chris Hemsworth has almost the opposite problem.  He’s got a body that looks like one of those plastic action toys and a performance style to match.

Like most blockbusters these days Thor is over long and over plotted.  There’s a surplus of incident but insufficient time devoted to atmosphere and characterisation.  The net result is a movie that’s cold and fails to consistently hold audience attention.  Opportunities to exploit the humour of Thor’s fish-out-of-water situation on earth are squandered and scenes set in Asgard are just plain dull.

Portman’s face is as diverting as ever and the spectacle of a fire-breathing robot laying waste to a small town is certain to amuse young boys the world over.  That’s about it though. For a movie as forgettable as Thor an open ending setting up a sequel is the height of optimism.