Thor: Love and Thunder — A mighty bore

Thor: Love and Thunder (2022) • View trailer

Two stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for sci-fi violence, occasional profanity, suggestive content and partial nudity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.8.22

A bit of levity is welcome in a superhero film; otherwise, the thrashing, bashing and smashing would become tedious.

 

But too much levity is just as bad, and this film crosses that line. And then some.

 

When the malevolent Gorr floods New Asgard with all manner of icky, shadowy monsters,
even Thor (Chris Hemsworth) quickly feels overwhelmed.

The fourth Thor entry is a relentlessly silly clown show, and the blame clearly belongs to director/co-writer Taika Waititi; he pushes the inane dialogue and burlesque atmosphere even further than he did with 2017’s mostly silly Thor: Ragnarok.

In Waititi’s hands, Chris Hemsworth’s Thor is little more than a strutting buffoon.

 

Granted, a touch of Shakespearean egotism is appropriate; we are dealing with a near-omnipotent Norse God. Conceit comes with the territory. Director Kenneth Branagh — perfect for the assignment — better understood the balance, when he helmed the first film, back in 2011.

 

Waititi immediately shows his hand, during a prologue that finds Thor still allied with the Guardians of the Galaxy (with whom he departed Earth, following the events in 2019’s Avengers: Endgame, for those not up to date). The Guardians are trying to protect blue-skinned Indigarrians from an invading force determined to take over the planet; Thor sits out the battle until things turn dire, at which point he and his lightning-spitting battle axe make short work of the entire enemy army.

 

Much to the annoyance of the exhausted Guardians, who’ve clearly had enough of this swaggering narcissist. As we also will, very quickly.

 

That’s bad enough; far worse is the collateral destruction of the Indigarrians’ holiest of holies, which Waititi and co-scripter Jennifer Kaytin Robinson discard as a cheap laugh.

 

That’s unforgiveable … and a dire indication of things to come.

 

The “big bad” this time is Gorr the God Butcher (Christian Bale, almost unrecognized beneath make-up), a once-pious individual who renounced worship after the death of his entire species. Rage and despair allowed Gorr to be infected by the malevolent spirit of a god-killing sword, and he has since been systematically eliminating gods, universe by universe.

 

Next stop: New Asgard, on Earth.

 

Ah, yes … New Asgard. The actual Asgard, Thor’s celestial realm — along with most of his fellow warriors — was destroyed during Thor: Ragnarok. The remaining Asgardians have made a home in New Asgard, which has blossomed into an excruciatingly cutesy Norse theme park.

 

Look closely, and you’ll spot Matt Damon, Sam Neill, Melissa McCarthy and Hemsworth’s brother Luke, as a quartet of so-wooden-they-warp stage actors.

Lightyear: Not quite a shooting star

Lightyear (2022) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG, for dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theater

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.17.22

The opening text screen is quite clever:

 

In 1995, Andy got a Buzz Lightyear action figure after seeing his favorite movie.

 

This is that movie.

 

Things seem calm at the moment, but that's deceptive; Buzz, far right, and his new
companions — from left, Izzy, SOX the cat, Mo and Darby — are about to encounter
another bunch of Zurg's malevolent robots.

This explanation thus out of the way, director/co-scripter Angus MacLane — assisted by writers Matthew Aldrich and Jason Headley — plunge pell-mell into an exciting and suspenseful blend of every sci-fi franchise from Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon, to Star Trek, Star Wars and even a touch of 2001: A Space Odyssey.

To infinity and beyond, indeed.

 

That said, this definitely is a case where action and momentum cover an increasing number of plot holes and unanswered questions. Considerable care is required, when concocting stories that involve time travel and alternate time streams; let’s just say things get a bit sloppy.

 

But that comes later.

 

The story begins quietly, as a massive spherical S.C.0.1 exploration vessel — dubbed “the Turnip” — heads home via automatic pilot, its 1,000-strong complement of crew, scientists and technicians in cryo-sleep during the lengthy journey. Roughly 4.2 million light-years from Earth, sensors detect T’Kani Prime, an uncharted but potentially resource-rich planet.

 

The ship wakens Space Ranger Buzz Lightyear (voiced by Chris Evans, taking over from Tim Allen), commander Alisha Hawthorne (Uzo Aduba) and a rookie named Featheringhamstan (Bill Hader). They land the Turnip; Buzz and his companions reconnoiter and quickly discover that this swampy world is laden with giant swarming bugs and subterranean vines that burst through the surface, latch onto anything foreign, and drag it below ground.

 

Anything … including the Turnip.

 

Buzz, Alisha and the rookie battle bugs and vines during their frantic dash back to the Turnip. They board; Buzz takes the helm, and tries to defy physics in a heroic effort to get the massive ship free of the vines, and off this inhospitable planet.

 

He fails.

 

Worse yet, the resulting crash destroys one of the Turnip’s fuel cells and its essential hyperspeed crystal, without which the journey home cannot be made. The entire crew settles in for a long stay on T’Kani Prime, as it’ll take years to fabricate a replacement fuel cell and crystal that’ll hold up to a test flight.

 

(It seems unlikely that all of these folks would cheerfully forgive Buzz for the error in judgment that has stranded them, but that’s something we cannot dwell upon.)

 

(One also wonders how the Turnip could possibly have contained enough raw materials and infrastructure to construct the mini-city that soon houses all of these folks, but that’s something else we cannot dwell upon.)

 

Jojo Rabbit: A cheeky masterpiece

Jojo Rabbit (2019) • View trailer 
Five stars. Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity, disturbing images and violence
By Derrick Bang

You’re unlikely to see a more audacious film this year.

The slightest misstep — the most minute mistake in tone — and director/scripter Taika Waititi’s adaptation of Christine Leunens’ Jojo Rabbit would slide into puerile bathos or unforgivably heinous poor taste.

Having just discovered that a young woman (Thomasin McKenzie, as Elsa) has been
concealed behind the wall of an upstairs bedroom for an unknown length of time,
impassioned Hitler Youth acolyte Jojo (Roman Griffin Davis) is uncertain how to
handle this potentially dangerous situation.

Such a delicate tightrope walk … which Waititi maneuvers with impressive grace, skill and cunning.

Along with his unerring handling of a note-perfect cast.

Satires about Adolf Hitler are rare, and for obvious reasons; the very notion is an artistic mine field. Charlie Chaplin pulled it off, with 1940’s The Great Dictator; so did Mel Brooks, with his Oscar-winning script for 1967’sThe Producers. And now we have an even more daring and impudent skewering of the dread Teppichfresser.

Ten-and-a-half-year-old Jojo Betzler (precocious Roman Griffin Davis, in a stunning acting debut) is introduced as he stares at his reflection in a mirror, dressed in Nazi finery. “Today you join the ranks of the Jungvolk!” he proudly tells himself. “You are in peak mental and physical condition. You have the body of a panther, and the mind of … a brainy panther. You are a shiny example of shiny perfection!”

The setting is the quaint (fictitious) town of Falkenheim, Austria, years into the repressive Nazi rule. Although all signs point to the war’s imminent conclusion, the naïve and credulously gullible Jojo has waited to be old enough to embrace the pervasive propaganda against which he has grown up, by joining the Hitler Youth. He and best friend Yorki (Archie Yates, endearingly cherubic) are tremendously excited by the weekend of “training” that will transform them into hard-charging Nazi warriors.

Except that things don’t quite work out that way. 

The training camp is overseen by the wearily cynical Capt. Klenzendorf (Sam Rockwell), who’d prefer to lead men to “glorious death” at the front, rather than shepherd “a bunch of little titty-grabbers.” He’s assisted by loyal acolyte Freddie Finkel (Alfie Allen, late of Game of Thrones), far more faithful than intelligent; and Fraulein Rahm (Rebel Wilson, whose deadpan slow takes are to die for), ever-willing to accept and spread the most absurd Nazi myths.

Trouble is, Jojo’s inherently sensitive nature is completely at odds with the Nazi “Aryan ideal” he’s so desperate to mimic. The crunch comes when, as the youngest and clearly most intimidated boy in the group, he’s ordered to demonstrate his ferocity … by killing a rabbit.