I can’t remember the last time the A-list stars of a Marvel film have all seemed genuinely happy to be there.
Portman, whose Jane Foster here wields the power of Mighty Thor, flexes her biceps and lands dorky joke after dorky joke – two things so rarely granted to the actresses Hollywood demands are perpetually dainty and polite. These three actors gambolling around a soundstage as if it were their own personal playground.
That probably has a lot to do with who’s behind the camera here – one Taika Waititi , who, since 2017’s Thor: Ragnarok, has become the shining exemplar of how to navigate the mainstream without losing your soul in the process. He’s one of the only people who could ever convince Bale to return to the superhero genre post-Batman, and Portman to forgive the franchise that burned her so badly with her lacklustre roles in Thor (2011) and Thor: The Dark World (2013).
It’s certainly not as thematically tight as Ragnarok, which snuck in a fairly sharp critique of colonialist narratives. And both of Waititi’s Marvel films struggle with the same issue – that he’s been lumped with so much franchise baggage that it takes about 20 minutes to clean up the mess before the fun can actually begin. The Guardians of the Galaxy appear here, but in a contractually obligated kind of way. And the film has absolutely no idea what to do with Thor’s clumsily handled weight gain subplot in Avengers: Endgame. But once Waititi, and his co-writer Jennifer Kaytin Robinson, push all of that out of the way, you can almost feel the stick-shift change in Love and Thunder. Its plot sees Thor (Chris Hemsworth) venture out of his self-imposed, emotional cocoon in order to rescue the children of New Asgard. They’ve been kidnapped by Gorr, a grieving father who’s dead set on vengeance against the gods who rewarded his faith with contempt.
How did she get her hands on a weapon like the hammer? I won’t spoil the answer (though comic fans might already have an inkling), but Portman’s finally been handed an MCU storyline that’s worthy of her talent – a simple but potent take on waking yourself up out of a state of self-denial. Love and Thunder has less of the usual Waititi stuff we’ve grown to expect, namely themes of insecure masculinity and marginalisation broached with a lightness of touch. But it radiates with that titular love. It’s a true family affair, with the real-life children of Waititi, Hemsworth, and Portman all making cameo appearances. Meanwhile, Tessa Thompson’s Valkyrie gets an extended role as the King of New Asgard, her deadpan nonchalance covering for the lingering grief of losing the woman she loved in battle (her bisexuality was only hinted at in Ragnarok, but it’s confirmed here).
Of course, Ragnarok’s distinctive humour is carried over, and there’s a blissfully dumb running joke about a pair of giant, heavy metal-screaming goats. But, really, it’s the heart that matters here. Love and Thunder’s characters are all running towards the same conclusion: that, no matter how long or short our time on Earth (or any planet) may be, we’re all inevitably living for the benefit of others. We love. Then we love again. It’s nice for Marvel, always caught up in its own chaos, to remind us of something so simple.
click the link below to watch the trailer:
content sources ; movieblend.com , newyorker.com , news18.com
