Thor

Most of us were sent to our room by our parents for being bad kids. But if, like Thor (Chris Hemsworth), you're the son of a Norse god, there's a fate far worse than bed with no supper: It's banishment to another realm for you, young man. Under the direction of Shakespeare thesp Kenneth Branagh, Thor is the ludicrous but nonetheless rip-roaring saga of a cocky young superman coming to terms with his sizable ego. In New Mexico.

To be fair, Thor probably deserves it. The naively hawkish upstart stokes a brand-spanking new war between his fellow citizens of Asgard and old enemies the Frost Giants after he goes to pay the icy ones a little "warning visit" (that's mass destruction to you and me). Wise, Kris Kringle-bearded Odin (Anthony Hopkins) isn't going to accept this kind of ungodly behavior, and brings his son, quite literally, down to Earth - casting him out of Asgard. Barely has he landed when Thor is knocked over by a car belonging to astrophysicist Jane Foster (Natalie Portman); it is to be the beginning of an out-of-this-world relationship.

It's always great fun to watch a fish out of water (think E.T., Big, Crocodile Dundee), and Thor is no exception. The exiled stud muffin sends doctors flying all directions at the local hospital, before striding into a pet shop and demanding a horse (in lieu of one of these, he's offered a cat). Though it tussles with some weighty drama, Thor's hijinks aren't neglected, and that's why it's frothy enough to sit back and soak up without putting in too much effort.

Pinging back and forth between the two realms of Asgard and planet Earth, Thor is a hyperactive spectacle, with the ethereal beauty and courtliness of up above, juxtaposing against the more humorous repercussions of a heavenly being coming to terms with himself in small-town U.S.A.

Following Thor's departure from Asgard, things aren't exactly hunky-dory; younger brother Loki (Richard E. Grant sound-alike Tom Hiddleston) is even naughtier than Thor, hell-bent as he is on leapfrogging his brother's accession to the throne, with the help of some flagrant fibbing and dodgy negotiation with the Frost Giants. In the family feud that plays out between the brothers and their father, there are undertones of Shakespearean tragedy, and it's apt that Branagh's at the helm for this.

Back on Earth, Thor's trusty hammer has been chucked down after him, in the process kicking off a King Arthur-like craze with the New Mexico locals, as they try in vain to yank the thing from the ground. As is commonplace in these extra-terrestrial films, the FBI (actually in this case the Marvel equivalent, S.H.I.E.L.D.) come clattering onto the scene in sharp suits and shades, confiscating all of Jane's research equipment in a bid to fathom the wormhole that's brought her new friend here. A slighted Thor takes it on himself to protect Jane, and she, him, forging the kind of cutesy comic-book love story that's never really in any danger of consummation.  

Hemsworth himself offers more than the requisite body shape - the 27-year-old Kiwi straddles gravitas and superhero camp, which can't be easy. But as if it would be any other way, Hopkins gives the standout performance, notwithstanding some highly dubious get-up (sunglasses monocle, anyone?) and that he spends the whole middle section of the film recovering in bed - he achieves even this with dignity.

Eventually, Loki oversteps the mark, the hammer comes loose, and the two disparate realms collide (with a timely visit from Thor's old warrior chums looking like a bunch of Warhammer nuts), the eponymous super being finally having the chance to redeem himself. If it's predictable stuff, then it's twice as entertaining.

Though Thor has allegedly been an accursed and disjointed project with various directorial and casting hiccups along the way, the end product is a tightly woven, highly polished treat for the senses, adroitly bringing the Marvel universe into a brilliant explosion of 3-D live action. Good then? By Odin's beard, it is.

Will Noble can be reached at
wnoble@praguepost.com