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This was entertaining, much more so than most superhero or pseudo-superhero movies. It's not particularly subversive, and the humor is kind of slapstick, but oh well. The bad guys (to the extent that there even are bad guys...) are all aliens, so at least there's no demonization of human cultures going on. The parts that take place on Earth are way more fun than the parts that take place on, uh, Thor's home planet. Overall, alternated between funny and campy!dramatic, but in a very non-annoying way - and we all know how easy it is to annoy me.
I thought they actually did a really nice job with the everyday folk in this one - Natalie Portman's character was very likable and relatable and cute (and everything about Thor was filtered through her perspective, which was awesome, because it almost felt more like he was the love interest, not her - which is really fucking rare in action movies, to allow women to show desire - usually it's just like, Exasperated Love Interest Suddenly Becomes Willing To Make Out With Hero, How Did That Happen? Don't Ask), with her main adjective probably being "clever." Her assistant, Darcy - the political science student - was the comic relief, and was a riot. Then their beleaguered scientist mentor dude was Stellan Skarsgard, and he did a good job; I generally like Skarsgard anyway. It all takes place in a very desertified New Mexico.
The aliens - Thor's people, and their enemies the Frost Giants - are a little headscratchy. They have a nice-looking planet, sure, with the cosmos as their sky and a long psychedelic crystal highway that leads out to the rainbow bifrost bridge - kind of like something off a sketchy "space art" web site. And their attire reminded more of Saint Seiya than anything else, did anybody watch that show? Disturbing anime, that. Anyway, they're all completely identical to humans aside from their ridiculous armor, which was played for some laughs when they eventually came to Earth. The Frost Giants are corpse-gray with red eyes and live in a desolate ice world. Character development in this "realm," as Thor would say, was a little weak, but I think is a good example of what I was saying the other day - heroic heroes are more interesting than antiheroes.
Thor comes straight out of Hero Mold, you see. He is a total stupid dumbfuck when he first becomes an adult, but his flaws are hero flaws - wants to go after the enemy and teach them a lesson, doesn't want to wait for diplomacy, must defend honor, blah blah blah - a lot of sound and fury and prideful bombast, but he doesn't angst or consider switching sides or even behave all that reprehensibly. There was one part where I thought he might suffer A Very Painful Lesson (TM) because he's smashing all these Frost Giants with his whack-a-mole hammer while miles away his friends are about to get eaten by a gigantic ice Balrog/Troll, but no, he sees that they're in danger and saves them. He has some character defects, but they're heroic defects. And he becomes much less of a dumbfuck as the movie progresses. But thank God, you know, thank God that he wasn't "I'm just a loser and I'm sad about my average life but holy shit look I have superpowers now I am uber cool woohoo." I am so done with that kind of superhero. With Thor, at least we've moved beyond the standard "what does this power mean?" conversations, because you know, Thor knows he has power. He's been groomed to be a leader all his life. So instead of "you too can be a leader" claptrap you can actually concentrate on what good leadership is (not that this movie is very deep, but eh). And if that means that fewer boys in the audience can "relate" to Thor, too damn bad for them. Captain America looks right up their alley.
Loki, his brother, the "bad guy," is a whole bucket of crazy. He's kind of sympathetic, and he's certainly Thor's shadow-self, and he doesn't seem to be motivated by Unrepenting Evil or whatever, but neither his motives nor his personality are consistent. I don't mean that he develops as a character like Thor does - he's just wildly inconsistent. I accept that he's keeping his true motives and plan to himself, but towards the end I kept going like "Loki, why are you doing that? I thought that's what you wanted!" and "Loki, what the fuck?" Unlike Thor, you never really figure out what Loki believes or values - we get that he values himself, yeah, but he seems to have literally no opinions or belief system beyond that - which is just as bad as the villain that is evil Just Because.
But, oh well. The movie ultimately comes down not on the side of genocide, which for an action blockbuster, is pretty good.
I thought they actually did a really nice job with the everyday folk in this one - Natalie Portman's character was very likable and relatable and cute (and everything about Thor was filtered through her perspective, which was awesome, because it almost felt more like he was the love interest, not her - which is really fucking rare in action movies, to allow women to show desire - usually it's just like, Exasperated Love Interest Suddenly Becomes Willing To Make Out With Hero, How Did That Happen? Don't Ask), with her main adjective probably being "clever." Her assistant, Darcy - the political science student - was the comic relief, and was a riot. Then their beleaguered scientist mentor dude was Stellan Skarsgard, and he did a good job; I generally like Skarsgard anyway. It all takes place in a very desertified New Mexico.
The aliens - Thor's people, and their enemies the Frost Giants - are a little headscratchy. They have a nice-looking planet, sure, with the cosmos as their sky and a long psychedelic crystal highway that leads out to the rainbow bifrost bridge - kind of like something off a sketchy "space art" web site. And their attire reminded more of Saint Seiya than anything else, did anybody watch that show? Disturbing anime, that. Anyway, they're all completely identical to humans aside from their ridiculous armor, which was played for some laughs when they eventually came to Earth. The Frost Giants are corpse-gray with red eyes and live in a desolate ice world. Character development in this "realm," as Thor would say, was a little weak, but I think is a good example of what I was saying the other day - heroic heroes are more interesting than antiheroes.
Thor comes straight out of Hero Mold, you see. He is a total stupid dumbfuck when he first becomes an adult, but his flaws are hero flaws - wants to go after the enemy and teach them a lesson, doesn't want to wait for diplomacy, must defend honor, blah blah blah - a lot of sound and fury and prideful bombast, but he doesn't angst or consider switching sides or even behave all that reprehensibly. There was one part where I thought he might suffer A Very Painful Lesson (TM) because he's smashing all these Frost Giants with his whack-a-mole hammer while miles away his friends are about to get eaten by a gigantic ice Balrog/Troll, but no, he sees that they're in danger and saves them. He has some character defects, but they're heroic defects. And he becomes much less of a dumbfuck as the movie progresses. But thank God, you know, thank God that he wasn't "I'm just a loser and I'm sad about my average life but holy shit look I have superpowers now I am uber cool woohoo." I am so done with that kind of superhero. With Thor, at least we've moved beyond the standard "what does this power mean?" conversations, because you know, Thor knows he has power. He's been groomed to be a leader all his life. So instead of "you too can be a leader" claptrap you can actually concentrate on what good leadership is (not that this movie is very deep, but eh). And if that means that fewer boys in the audience can "relate" to Thor, too damn bad for them. Captain America looks right up their alley.
Loki, his brother, the "bad guy," is a whole bucket of crazy. He's kind of sympathetic, and he's certainly Thor's shadow-self, and he doesn't seem to be motivated by Unrepenting Evil or whatever, but neither his motives nor his personality are consistent. I don't mean that he develops as a character like Thor does - he's just wildly inconsistent. I accept that he's keeping his true motives and plan to himself, but towards the end I kept going like "Loki, why are you doing that? I thought that's what you wanted!" and "Loki, what the fuck?" Unlike Thor, you never really figure out what Loki believes or values - we get that he values himself, yeah, but he seems to have literally no opinions or belief system beyond that - which is just as bad as the villain that is evil Just Because.
But, oh well. The movie ultimately comes down not on the side of genocide, which for an action blockbuster, is pretty good.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-22 04:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-22 05:05 pm (UTC)But I do think that I mean something a good deal more, and a good deal more difficult, than "something besides criticism." Which is partly why I use the word 'positive'--as in actual, positive ideals, actual morals, actual transcendence that hasn't just become trite and cliche and unthinking. It's difficult for me to create something genuinely new in that department myself at this point, but it's something I strive for.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-22 05:52 pm (UTC)Yeah, for sure I don't think every novel achieves what you're talking about. I'm just saying that I don't think it's possible for a novel to be all response, no creation - it's still putting forth something, and that something might be totally trite and unthinking, and a good deal of what's created is exactly that, but something is still being produced. It might not transcend a factory level of "production," but... I guess you could debate what's more useful, putting forth something trite and cliched or being critical of something someone else has put out.
This is a line of argument that often goes along with fiction and criticism in the LJ community - writers are always going "instead of criticizing my work, why don't you write something yourself."
no subject
Date: 2011-05-22 10:48 pm (UTC)I do think criticism has a use, don't get me wrong. And I enjoy some criticism. I just think...it's a lot easier to be against something than for something, and to attract like-minded people that way, and to distinguish oneself as different and special that way.
I'm not trying to say everybody should write something themselves, or that no one should criticize. But seriously, like, we've got a whole academy united in the publishing potential of criticism. We've got newspapers of criticism. We've got atheism and sexual revolution and anti-war, anti-capitalism, anti-gun, anti-mainstream... We think everything is going downhill--the economy, the culture, the education system, politics... But who are we and what are we for?
It gets to a point where even the novelty and seeming individuality of a critical voice just begins to sound like all the rest.
Shit, I'm late.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-22 11:33 pm (UTC)You mean who are we as Americans or who are we as people? And I get what you're saying, but I don't think that's true everywhere - in sf/f/h, for example, criticism is generally frowned upon as elitist and useless - though that doesn't mean there isn't dispute over what sf/f/h is "supposed" to be, and I suspect that would always be true. I get that it's easier to be against something than for something, especially in politics, and maybe that's indicative of a certain cultural depression or something - negative internal thought processes and the like.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-23 05:16 am (UTC)I'm not really saying it right, I don't think. Especially because it's not criticism, per se. Like I said, I still think criticism can be good/useful, on the one hand, and on the other, not everything I'm trying to encapsulate really fits the descriptor 'criticism.' It's neither necessary nor sufficient. :P Really, I'm just copying DFW subconsciously. And Nietzsche. Unrelatedly. And they were both quite good critics, right, but they also say stuff like this that I posted about before:
"It's actually not true that our literary culture is nihilistic, at least not in the radical sense of Turgenev's Bazarov. For there are certain tendencies we believe are bad, qualities we hate and fear. Among these are sentimentality, naïveté, archaism, fanaticism. It would probably be better to call our own art's culture now one of congenital skepticism. Our intelligentsia30 distrust strong belief, open conviction. Material passion is one thing, but ideological passion disgusts us on some deep level."
...
"So he--we, fiction writers--won't (can't) dare try to use serious art to advance ideologies.^31 The project would be like Menard's Quixote. People would either laugh or be embarrassed for us. Given this (and it is a given), who is to blame for the unseriousness of our serious fiction? The culture, the laughers?"
...
"31 We will, of course, without hesitation use art to parody, ridicule, debunk, or criticize ideologies--but this is very different."
I guess I'm picking at the criticizing ideologies part, when what's at issue is the deep skepticism an apathy part? Something like that.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-23 05:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-23 05:24 am (UTC)But like, I'm not talking about anything specific. It's possible someone could turn that concept into something I would find interesting. But what I'm describing, I probably wouldn't.