A pox be on the heads of puny morals who would berate the might of Thor, a Marvel amongst this new and dawning summer, and may Odin have mercy on their depraved souls, but prithee mind its worthiness as one would a fallen god.
As a wee lad, I'd often lain mine eyes on shelves within book shops, containing thin volumes known as "comics," mocked for scorn by some, or regarded as sacred writ from sources most powerful to others. Thor, like many a hero in cape and tights, struck discord to mine youthful need for reason. Forsooth, I could not mingle amongst such nonsense. Years passed. A trailer emerged--a bewitching sight that roused gramercy from mine lips--and with Branagh, a brother of such favorable works, which have more ado than nothing! Mine attention drawn, I harkened the date and reserved a lofty digital screen, only to unearth a neglected gem of mine childhood. A pox be on the heads of puny morals who would berate the might of Thor, a Marvel amongst this new and dawning summer, and may Odin have mercy on their depraved souls, but prithee mind its worthiness as one would a fallen god.
Thor, Odin's son, is a warrior like none other, the very god of thunder, and he is to be made king before the hosts of Asgard, The Eternal, until Frost Giants invade the weapons vault and delay the ceremony. Enraged, Thor goes against his father and seeks the giants out, in their realm of Jotunheim, causing a violent disturbance that would unleash war amongst the realms. As punishment, Odin seizes Thor's hammer, Mjolnir, and banishes him to Earth. If Thor wishes to reclaim his fallen hammer, he must learn of his faults and become worthy. He must make haste. Trouble threatens to destroy Asgard and the Nine Realms (including Earth). Can a moral woman help guide Thor back to his noble ways, or will the invincible Destroyer sunder him to ashes?
A vague knowledge was mine, respecting the Norse mythos by which Marvel derived, but unlike anything hitherto shown in ages past. Flee The Grid, and pay no heed to Pandora. I wish to visit Asgard! Never a sight held such cosmic flair as the stunning world of Thor, courtesy of BUF, an effects studio of such foreign reputation that mine preconceived notions of ILM helming the visuals had deceived me. Branagh knows his royal families, conducting their drama with impeccable taste. Helmsworth, Hiddleston, and Hopkins carry a voice that suits the Viking gods. Commix a score by Patrick Doyle with noteworthy strength throughout, a surprising cameo, humor, and nary an unnecessary presence of S.H.E.I.D. agents. Thine approval ought to be met, as 'twas mine.
Lacking the might of Thor's thunder 'twas the chemistry betwixt our hero and his floundering maiden (and addling, earthly companions). Not once did Portman's Jane Foster define a beacon of science, but rather a love-struck damsel, who employed a whiny approach to her character as her leading man[child] performed in another galaxy, far far away. Thus is the weakest of romances amongst the Marvel films. Denning's Darcey Lewis was as out of place as her internship, and the editing was a colossal wellaway, with fight scenes too shaky and close for mine eyes to discern. Add the Devil's vice (3D) and thine aching head shall mock the extra dollars missing from thine wallet.
A robust addition to the Marvel universe, to be sure, on par with the likes of The Incredible Hulk, but under the invincible Iron Man. Captain America is next. Survive the deplorable song during the closing credits and you will be rewarded a cookie! A film of Thor could have gone awry in so many a way, but it succeed with spirit, valor, and a well of refreshing emotion amongst a desert scene. Oh, thank thee Gods of cinema! A time well spent, and worthy of more than a rent. Done is three. One more. Tremble. Avengers assemble!
This movie? I like it! ANOTHER!
(By Movieweb's Diaigma: resemblance to other reviews is coincidental)