Movie Review: Thor: Blood & Thunder (2022)

There’s much to enjoy in Taika Waititi’s new MCU movie, Thor: Blood & Thunder (a/k/a Thor 4). It’s visually brilliant, at the very least, and Waititi carries on with some success his droll fun-poking of the literary realm of gods and superheroes from the previous installment, Thor: Ragnarok (a/k/a Thor 3).

That is part of my problem with this film. While Waititi has mostly avoided the most common sin of sequels (taking what worked the first time and focusing solely on that, dialed up to 12), he isn’t completely immune to it. Thor 4 is too in love with its titular character being an unaware parody of a hero, bold and brash and unaware of any of the people around him or the consequences of his actions, juggling ex-girlfriends and ex-weapons with equal ineptness.

My wife — who was not enthused about going to “another Jane Foster movie” — pointed out something important afterward. Thor, as a character, is always about growth and maturity. In Thor 1, Thor learns to be worthy as a leader, not a selfish little boy. In Thor 2, he figures out how to be in a relationship. In Thor 3 (by Waititi!), he learns to be a king. In the Avengers films, he learns about teamwork and, ultimately, about accepting his own limitations.

The problem is that few of those lessons are allowed to take and carry on to the next film. The Thor of Thor 3 spends much of his time being a self-centered oaf, but the death of his father, and of his comrades, and the need to save the people of Asgard, drive him to new heights. Even the traumas of the Infinity War saga on the Avengers side of things, and the goofiness of his time with the Guardians, don’t explain the irresponsible dolt that he starts out as in Thor 4 and, for the most part, remains.

Thor 4 is centered on two sagas from the comics. The first — created by Jason Aaron and artist Esad Ribic — is the saga of Gorr, the God Butcher, a man who is let down by his people’s gods and who gets the power to punish them — and, as a new cause, all the layabout deities who take and take but never actually come through when asked for help in return. This is a remarkably dark saga in the comics, touching on personal relationships with the divine and theodicy, the profound question of why bad things happen to good people in a cosmos supposedly ruled by all-good, all-power divine power.

For the most part, though, Waititi plays it for wry laughs, and for what kind of cool special effects battles can be devised around Gorr’s use of the necrosword and shadows. Gorr ends up with sort of a Tim Burton style of scariness, a bogey-man rather than an existential terror, but the tragedy of his life, and of the actions he takes, and even of Thor facing the idea of times when he didn’t live up to the needs of his own followers — it’s all largely lost for the vast majority of the movie, book-ended by the introduction sequence and the sweet but too-late what-you-really-want message at the end.

The other original storyline here (also created by Jason Aaron) is the saga of Jane Foster as Thor–how she takes up that mantle, and what it means to be splitting her life between uber-powerful god-hero and chemo-weakened mortal cancer patient — especially when it becomes clear that all the Asgardian hi-jinx are neutralizing the chemo (but not the cancer), meaning that, at length, Jane Foster the human will be no more, leaving only Jane Foster the Thor — and what does that actually mean for her?

Jane’s story gets a bit more play here than Gorr’s — modified for the much different situation in the MCU — but it’s again blunted by the need to keep everything quirky and amusing, for Jane to be trying to figure out her catch phrase, for Jane to deal with her ex-boyfriend, the other Thor. The cancer, for most of the center of the movie, is merely a convenient way for her to be weakened at inopportune times. And Natalie Portman’s make-up never makes her look more than a little bit ill.

We end up spending far too much time in this film in humorous set pieces, all of them fun, but all of them consuming ruinous amounts of run time. The stage players of New Asgard (now become a cruise line stop), giving us minutes of recap of just a portion of Thor 3. Endless exposition or commentary by Korg (voiced by Waititi). The Gorr-justifying insouciance of Omnipotence City. Thor doing something or another in an oafish, thoughtless, laughable fashion.

It’s almost all of it funny and played successfully for laughs, but in the end it feels more like a series of really successful SNL skits poking fun at Thor than at a movie actually about him (and Jane, and Valkyrie, and Korg, and a bunch of kids, and Gorr, too). The film spends too much time not taking its subject seriously, aside from those bookend scenes, and so it’s hard to take it seriously when it actually does try to engage our sympathies at the end, with Jane making decisions about her fate, and Gorr doing the same, and Thor learning what’s really important in life (until, one presumes, next movie, when he’ll quite possibly be back to being a goofball).

Chris Hemsworth plays Thor well as far as he’s given to do so. He has the heroic and the goofy down pat (and should, after nine film outings), and I just wish he got to do more of the dramatic moments we’ve seen him in from the beginning of the saga. Natalie Portman’s more a mixed bag. Her rom-com moments feel weird and awkward, but she makes a fine hero. Christian Bale’s Gorr does well with what he’s given, shining in both his initial and final scenes, but hampered too much in-between, relegated to a kinda-scary action villain living in the shadows.

To be fair, it’s not all — or even mostly — actually bad. The make-up is amazing. There are some stunning set pieces (Omnipotence City and the small moon they battle on stand out), visually rich and gorgeous, and (while we didn’t) possibly worth the cost of a 3D showing. And, honestly, the very ending of the film was one of the most satisfying MCU endings in quite a while. (The two mid/end credit scenes weren’t bad, either.) Beyond that, like I said, Waititi’s irreverent humor, and how it translates to the screen, aided by some decent acting talent, works on its own terms.

And, just to say it, we loved the goats.

And, net-net, I enjoyed Thor 4, especially scene by scene. It’s in its overall tone and structure that things didn’t quite gel for me. I will absolutely watch it again in the future, but for the moment I’m left feeling a bit unsatisfied, as if a promised banquet turned out to be all beautifully-baked sweets, and I had been hoping for some juicy steak.

The original version of this review was posted on Letterboxd.