Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Thor 2: The Dark World


Going to the movies is a funny experience. Not the movies themselves, only about half of those are funny, but the experience of going to them. Prior to heading out for Thor 2: The Dark World, I had shared an afternoon meal at the home of my girlfriend's parents. When my girlfriend and I announced we would be heading out to the theatre (I refuse to spell “theater” properly, because YOLO), we had this exchange with my girlfriend's mother:

Her: “Oh, so you're going out to see 12 Years a Slave! It's amazing!”

Us: “Umm, actually, we were going to see Thor. We thought we'd have some fun, and save the crying for next weekend.”

Her: “Whaat!? Gross. Well if you decide to be moved, and have something to think about for the next decade, you should see 12 Years instead.”

Right then.

All of this is somewhat unfair to Thor, and I'm sure the Norse god's thundering biceps would disapprove, but I think the convo speaks marvels towards Marvel's (sorry, yolo again) decisions about positioning their movies. They aren't particularly interested in my parent's generation, but they know that to gross the absurdist numbers that they would like to gross with each iteration of their hydraform sagas, they need to appeal to adults who might otherwise go to see a film, rather than a movie. They promise a fun, mindless diversion that won't leave someone in their mid-twenties embarrassed for themselves afterward (Transformers, anyone?). The question is, did they succeed?

The short answer, of course, is yes.

The long answer goes something like this:

I adored about 90 percent of this movie. The original Thor succeeded for me due to Branagh's almost Shakespearean ambitions with the film. The use of royal struggles to explore normal family dynamics is something I love about the Bard, and is it me, or did the laughs in the first Thor movie feel inspired from a few of the comedies (right down to playing with mistaken identity) as well?

This movie delivers that exact same feel, but peppered and zinged with a few Whedon-y spices along the way (he's no stranger to Shakespeare either). The dialogue leaves most cheap-thrill action movies in the dust, and as for the action itself, well, the Marvel movies are like a fine wine.

My favorite thing about the action in Thor is actually Thor himself. He's practically indestructible, so the directors get to do stuff to him that they just don't get to do to the other Avengers. Whedon obvously had tons of fun doing this last summer – Thor is the Hulk's favorite buddy, because he's the only teammate that the Hulk can harmlessly punch through walls – and Alan Taylor does a great job picking up the torch in this movie. The action feels epic and exciting. It completely avoids “apocalypse fatigue,” (the way the impending end of the world can feel boring because you've seen it so many damn times) despite the high stakes, and people wanting to see new and innovative uses of Thor's powers get plenty of the as well.

While the action is awesome, let's get back to Shakespeare idea for a second. This movie is at it's finest when we see the drama of a family in turmoil, both from outside and within. Every single scene with 2 of the 4 members of the Allfather household (Odin, Friga, Thor, and Loki) sizzles, and even more so when one of the two members is Loki. Hiddelston is the gift that keeps on giving, and he's as much a key to my love of the Marvel franchise as RDJ and Whedon.

So that's a lot of adoring. What's that last unpleasant 10%, you ask? Well, I wasn't a fan of the villains. I'm sure the Dark Elves have a rich history in the comics, but they felt a little flat. The head honcho was great, but even his motivation seemed like it might have been purchased at Forboders-R-Us. Those things, of course, are relatively minor when we're talking about what is essentially a stop-gap movie to set the stage for something bigger in 18 months. What really irked me was the orcing.

Orcing is a problem in a lot of fantasy, so this isn't the most horrible offense in the world. The fact that it should pop up in Marvel's fantasy helping of the superhero platter is no surprise, but great sword/sorcery stories have been told without it, and epic battles have still taken place. Orcing, by the way, is explained with quite a bit more expertise in the link above, but is essentially what happens when you introduce an entire race of people who are treated much the same way by your story as othered races are treated by mainstream media in this country. Again, this is a small issue with the juxtaposition of the villains that irked, but did not remove me from the action.

Anyway, I hope you see Thor, most of all because of Loki's charming ass, but also because I'd love to spend some time with you, laughing and applauding the big blondie's innovative use lightning and gutteral screaming. Thousand year old Asgardians really can learn new tricks.

A Child's War

Erik's cart was small, but you wouldn't know it by the rattling behind him. The rickety wheels drowned out all other sound, except of course, for the noise the horse's hooves in front of him. Erik should have known better than to buy the massive draft horse, but the price had been cheap and the animal's stoicism had convinced him. He told himself then that he would need all that power one day, but he now knew the horse could pull much more than he would ever use it for. Not his shrewdest purchase, but it had been his first since returning home from the war. His first since returning more alive than the farmers he'd left.

Erik's horse whinnied, and the rattling grew stronger. He looked backward, the furs he sold were packed in crates, and hidden under wooden boards to protect them from the rain. He strained forward, trying to look past the tall horse in front of him. 
 
Promptly he was knocked off his steering platform as two glorious blue chargers stampeded past. A thunderous crash assaulted his ears before he even hit the ground. The front of his cart splintered into pieces, and instincts developed long ago were all that saved him from the flying shrapnel.

Erik looked up, winded. His duck and roll had taken him into a ditch by the roadside. His shoulder blades ached with a future bruise. The majestic seahorses galloped away, scaled hides gleaming, their gills flaring in panic. They left behind a richly jeweled carriage, and a dead driver. Bad memories kept Erik from investigating the pour soul, and instead he walked to the carriage.

Erik reached for the jeweled handle, but it opened out at him before he could grasp it. The resulting awkwardness was compounded when a familiar face emerged.

“Aah! Peasant. So good to see your desire to rescue your lord. Never fear, I will assess the damage myself.” Prince Denard brushed past him and gazed down the road towards Thanelia, the capital city that Erik was leaving.

“Umm... Thank you Your Grace.” Erik tried not to get flustered.

“No need, Subject, no need. My lady, it appears our driver has passed on. Would you like to assess the situation?” The Prince referred to something in the carriage, and Erik could not help but follow his gaze. This face shocked him, it was even more familiar.

A scarred woman stepped from the carriage. This close, her face was much younger than Erik remembered. She couldn't be any older than he was. Still, ingrained habits dropped him to one knee.
“General Rose!” Erik stared at the ground and watched her feet stroll past him. After several moments, he stole a glance towards the pair.

Memories flooded back as he watched them converse. A mounted woman (a girl, in retrospect) in shining armor stood on a hill as soldiers in much dirtier plate dragged a boy kicking and screaming from his home. A year later, that same boy had looked up at that same woman (no, girl), covered in blood and waving a flaming sword, while she rallied his decimated squad for a suicidal charge.

As Erik looked at them, Prince Denard turned back to him and smiled. Through his royal grin he announced “Congratulations humble trader, today you can be of great use.” He gave a magnanimous sweep of his arms. “As you can see, I have found myself without locomotion, and here you are, draft horse and all. Allow me to give you the honor of taking your prince to court.”

Erik barely heard the royal, he was still remembering. The boy was a young man now. He stood amongst the army and watched the future monarch strut in his fine silks, his voice projected to thunderous volume through a leviathan's throatbox. They would let the greater enemy force pass the border to the north. The opportunity to pillage the northern countryside was bait. This army would bypass the border war and strike at the other nation's heart. Those people's sacrifice would win the war in a single stroke, he had declared.

“Aah, he is in shock from the honor. Rose, would you see to him? You are so much better at relating to the common man than I.” 
 
General BloodRose, Thorn of Thanelia, took two steps towards Erik. He looked up, and a flash of recognition ran between them. It was not their first. Both of them shared this memory.

The girl was a woman now. She sat, battle scarred and terrible on her warhorse, mind occupied with tracking down enemy holdouts. Nearby, the same young man ran sobbing down a familiar hill. The younger Erik was breaking rank, and the farmhouse he ran to was smoldering. He reached the building and wailed, embracing a charred corpse. Men tried to separate him from the body, but he had grown stronger than before. Through tears, he looked up at the woman, and a flash of recognition ran between them. Still, the commander refused to stop. The dead remained unburied.

Erik shook himself and crossed the road. The weight of expectation crushed him as he packed his saddlebags. He climbed his horse, and looked back, Prince Denard was already waiting in the carriage. Finally, something in him broke.

Erik spurred the horse, and it walked away from the two nobles. The prince sputtered.

“What are you doing! This is treason! Unnaceptab...” He trailed off under Erik's gaze.

Erik turned to the General. She nodded. Not an apology, just an acknowledgment. Erik turned and rode off.

End