Thor ★★★☆☆

Dear Thor,

Thank you for starting the Summer Blockbuster Season. Nothing screams excruciatingly expensive (and excessive) film like a Marvel comic-book adaptation. Just look at that mostly CGI-d world, intense action sequences and underused big-name stars. You fit the profile perfectly.

And much like the blockbusters of last year, you disappoint. Between Kenneth Branagh (an undeniably talented director) and your target audience's propensity to accept anything thrown at them (gods living in a distant galaxy on something similar to Discworld, sure, no problem, why not, even I can get behind that), you killed the biggest obstacles in your way. Throw in a rather gorgeous Chris Hemsworth (for the long-suffering girlfriends of the nerds), a beautiful and talented Natalie Portman (for the ever adoring nerds themselves), Anthony Hopkins (for anyone who actually believes acting should be a part of a superhero movie) and Stellan Skarsgard (for those of us who know actors and appreciate them), and you conquer at least part of the pretty/basically-talented side of the mountain.

Unfortunately, that mountain has only one side and sheers off to a steep cliff with a wild, jagged descent into a brush fire; you overconfidently tossed yourself from it with little regard to imminent danger and possible death. Whether you land on the rocks or not, you're still plummeting rapidly towards the ground in a flurry of muddled plot, poorly delivered lines and empty dialogue. The best parts of you come in clumps as you desperately attempt to slow yourself with fingers made of fighting sequences and toes made out of sporadic humorous scenes of the beleaguered man (and unfortunate rescuers/companions/babysitters) tossed into an unfamiliar cultural situation.

When you finally pull your parachute, it becomes apparent that even the undeniable chemistry between the overlooked (except by S.H.I.E.L.D. because S.H.I.E.L.D. knows all and has Clark Gregg to enforce its omniscience and Samuel L. Jackson to look scary and Jeremy Renner to sit around with a bow and do absolutely nothing) scientist and the exiled (rather bizarrely by Odin who, arguably, should have realized his son's overconfidence long before the Ice Giant Fiasco and maybe should have punished his other son for setting up everything in the first place) Norse god creates only the most gossamer of fabric betwixt you and your imminent failure. Cutting down Anthony Hopkins part with a convenient coma (or permanent sleep, whatever) and failing to explain exactly what Tom Hiddleston intended on doing (kill his adoptive father? become king? realize his Ice Giant heritage? destroy the universe? erase his brother? fill the time before dinner?) or exactly why he was doing it (beyond "I like mayhem" and "Daddy lied to me" and "You love my pretty, buff, stereotype-hero brother better than pale, scraggily, shifty villain-in-the-making me") whittles your harness down to mere thread. Overall, you crash and burn not because of your actors (who have their weak moments but show a reasonable amount of skill), premise (no one really went into the theatre expecting a true-to-life drama) or even your director (who encouraged some rather bizarre delivery choices but created, overall, a striking set of visuals)-- your script simply rotted you away with unanswered questions and trite plot twists.

I can say that you develop a fascinating amount of intrigue in your last few minutes (post credits) with the S.H.I.E.L.D. underground. I can also concede that a giant, indestructible robot makes any movie fun. I admit to liking shiny objects and enjoyed the vast amount of them. I can even appreciate this for what it is: a $150 million overture for The Avengers.

I just wish you had a little more substance.

Wishing to Reclaim That Lost Sleep,
Savvy