But an excess of levity can quickly become its own kind of leadenness, and for long stretches between its genuinely amusing gags and set pieces, “Thor: Ragnarok,” credited to the screenwriting trio of Eric Pearson, Craig Kyle and Christopher Yost, is a bit too taken with its own breezy irreverence to realize when it’s time to rein it in.įrom the opening scene of Thor hanging out in a subterranean cavern, blissfully unconcerned that he’s being held captive by an ancient fire demon named Surtur (picture a more eloquent Balrog), you are invited to kick off your clogs, settle in and pay as much or as little attention to the plot as you please. Or that, at their best, these movies offer an enjoyable antidote to the crushingly pretentious psychodrama of Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent and other cape-carrying members of the Martha Cinematic Universe. I wouldn’t be the first to point out that “The Avengers,” “Guardians of the Galaxy” and their various offshoots are basically punchy, predictable sitcoms in comic-book drag. To some extent, this has become the Marvel Studios way. The only thing it takes seriously is that you know how un-seriously it takes itself.
Directed by Taika Waititi, the gifted New Zealand filmmaker known for such goofily singular oddities as “What We Do in the Shadows” and “Hunt for the Wilderpeople,” “Thor: Ragnarok” at least has a human pulse and doesn’t take itself too seriously.
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At 130 minutes, though, the movie actually runs a bit longer than either “Thor” (2011) or “Thor: the Dark World” (2013), and although I lost count at a certain point, it’s safe to say that it features more noisy scenes of CGI mass demolition and frenzied inter-dimensional transit than its predecessors combined. I wish I could report that Thor’s new-and-improved coiffure were some kind of qualitative metaphor - that “Thor: Ragnarok” is, in fact, the shortest, tidiest, most beautifully maintained movie yet about everyone’s favorite hammer-wielding god of thunder from another planet. It’s a handsome mug, certainly much too handsome to be hidden away in electronic-press-kit obscurity, or to be marred any longer by that greasy blond mop that always seemed just one sequel away from devolving into a mullet.
Then again, the busy marketing mavens at Disney have already spoiled it for you, given how liberally they’ve splashed Chris Hemsworth’s freshly groomed mug all over their advertising. Sorry, I probably should have issued a warning before giving away one of the story’s few legitimately thrilling developments (though I haven’t said who administers the haircut). About halfway through “Thor: Ragnarok” - to be more precise, sometime after a bunch of people die, but long before a ton of stuff blows up - Thor does something he should have done at least five movies ago but never had the courage to pull off.
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