Thor review

From its announcement, it was pretty obvious “Thor” was going to be an interesting experiment from Marvel and Paramount. Considering the pool of superheroes who have seen success on the silver screen so far, each has been relatively realistic; Iron Man’s a dude with a messed up heart and some sick armor, Spiderman was bitten by a radioactive spider, Batman has the super ability of having dead parents, etc.

In contrast, Thor is a literal god, on a different existential plane. He’s got the power of magic, which is the opposite of realism. For his movie to be good, Marvel would need to do something drastically different, especially concerning the whole “he needs to go to Earth to set up ‘The Avengers’ next year” thing.

To combat this issue, it seems the company threw some of its new Disney money at a lot of prominent Hollywood figures; Anthony Hopkins gets the “And Anthony Hopkins As…” credit, while Rene Russo gets her own “With” despite having less than 3 minutes of screentime, and the Black Swan herself, Natalie Portman, follows up her Oscar with a turn as love-interest damsel scientist Jane Foster. These actors’ appearances in a comic-book movie aren’t even surprising when one considers “Henry IV” director Kenneth Branagh helmed the production.

With all of this talent, the movie has to be good, right? There’s no way $150 million and such prestigious talent could go to waste? Well, yes and no. The film itself is uneven, at times triumphant and at times painfully, laughably bad. While it shines at some points of its run, it never overcomes its many issues to become truly “good.” I have found, though, that “good” and “entertaining” do not mean the same thing; in that respect, “Thor” definitely falls into the second category.

First, the good; the actors on Earth. Chris Hemsworth, last seen getting blown the fuck up in the opening of “Star Trek 09,” does more than enough with his character, a literal God on Earth, to make his casting shine. As Thor becomes banished from Asgard, the elemental plane where the Gods live, his arrogance and Viking tendencies become hilarious transported to our planet. Whether he’s shattering coffee cups in approval of the drink’s taste (“MORE!”), getting slizzard with Stellan Skarsgard’s head scientist (Foster’s boss) or protecting the people of some podunk New Mexico town, the God of Thunder is welcome on Earth.

Portman, Skarsgard, and Kat Dennings (as the poly-sci intern who tags along on their expeditions) make a nice team as well, with true chemistry and friendship obvious in their roles. Whether they’re giving each other orders, disobeying each other’s direct orders, or Tasering Thor because “he’s freaking me out,” each of the earthly characters acquits themselves well. Even S.H.I.E.L.D.’s brief role in the center of the film works well, especially Jeremy Renner’s cameo as super-archer Hawkeye (in advance of his introduction in Whedon’s “Avengers” next year).

But as the film sparkles and cracks with life on Earth, it fizzles out when it reaches Asgard. It’s unknown exactly why Branagh presented the beautiful perfection of the land of the Gods with such strange pacing, timing and portrayals. The sets are lavish, futuristic, and unconvincing; the dialogue is stilted and, while not catastrophically bad, forced at best; and the roles of the Gods are strangely decided. Tom Hiddleston’s Loki is a serviceable bad guy, though he’s fairly weak as they come; this is another problem with Marvel’s second-tier superhero movies, as I don’t think there’s been a great one yet (outside of ol’ “BOX OF SCRAPS” Jeff Bridges in Iron Man). In addition, everyone overacts and yells, which leads to many unintentional jokes in the early going.

The worst scenes of the superhero flick are the action scenes, which are also supposed to be the best part of a superhero flick. One might say this automatically leads to a complete failure of a film. I won’t go that far, but let’s just say it hurt the film’s score. Thor’s powers are never really explained, and when he and his Warriors Three And One Sexy Lady For Gender Parity launch into warfare with the Frost Giants, a supporting enemy, the proceedings look more like an episode of Power Rangers than a $150 million extravaganza. The Giants resemble characters from an episode, actually. The scenes cut quickly, have a lot of blur (though that may be the fault of a shoddy 3-D upconversion) and are fairly unexciting, save for Thor’s one-man infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D. midway through the film (though that’s a mortal-on-mortal fight, so maybe it doesn’t count). There were a shit-ton of Dutch angles, as well. It’s like Branagh just found out what they were and said “Well, I’ve made a lot of movies without these, might as well pack ‘em in here!” without realizing that maybe, possibly, they didn’t completely work like they should have.

So, am I Thorry I saw Thor? No, although I am sorry for using that pun. It wasn’t even original, I took it from someone on Twitter. Anyway, the movie’s a serviceable start to the summer, though it probably won’t light any hearts, or the box office, on fire. I’ve got my hopes up for Captain America and Avengers, now; let’s hope Marvel doesn’t fuck them up.

THOR: 6/10

The Strokes - "Angles"

I wrote this review of the new Strokes album before a paper meeting assuming I'd get the assignment. I didn't get the assignment. Here's the review anyway.


It’s been five long years since the original saviors of this millennium’s rock and roll, the Strokes, released their last album, the underappreciated “First Impressions of Earth.” In the meantime, the band’s members have been doing their own things, most notably lead singer Julian Casablancas’ solo album and Lonely Island single “Boombox,” but they’ve finally returned to the rock scene with a tight but slightly disappointing record.

“Angles” sounds familiar yet distant, in both good and bad ways. When it hits its highs, one is reminded of the band’s early near-perfect albums. Lead single “Under Cover of Darkness” is easily the album’s high point; it sounds like “Last Nite,” the group’s biggest hit, written after a decade of growing up. Featuring dueling guitar lines, a soaring solo and fantastic interplay between instruments, it’s a perfect example of the Strokes at their best.

Other songs reach unfamiliar places for the band, though they mostly redeem themselves. Album opener “Machu Picchu” opens with a decidedly non-Strokesy pattern, but quickly builds into a rolling rocker. “Two Kinds of Happiness” also strangely transforms from a light opening into a tougher single.

Most of “Angles” follow the pattern of these early songs; some would sound right in place on “Is This It,” while others sound strange at first, but slowly develop the usual Strokes sound over time. There are a few unfortunate misfires; “You’re So Right,” though, is anything but, as it’s the worst song on the album. Casablancas mumbles over a minimalist, dark beat only salvaged by a few blistering guitar solos. “Games” sounds out of place too, as it’s a new wave 80s pop song, and this is supposed to be a rock album.

“Call Me Back” is a slower romantic song that sounds a bit like Phoenix, but that’s understandable; the French pop-rockers have borrowed just as much of their sound from the NYC rockers, so it’s fine for the two to trade. Ending song “Life Is Simple in the Moonlight” also sounds reminiscent of Phoenix, but it’s not a bad song. It also has some patented Strokes vibe, including a guitar line that recalls “Electricityscape,” far and away the group’s best song to date.

“Angles” is full of little surprises like that, and it’s definitely worth a listen. I do have to call attention to “Gratisfaction,” though, as it sounds just like Steely Dan’s “Reelin’ in the Years.” I’d complain, if “Reelin’ In The Years” wasn’t one of the best rock songs ever written.

Musical Analysis: "Hey Bulldog"

I've been finding myself getting lost in music lately. If I'm walking somewhere with my iPod on, I often focus more on the music I'm listening to than the actual road I'm walking on, which can obviously get dangerous. But I've been able to think clear, pristine thoughts about said music, which gives me hope. One of the things I wanted to do with the blog's re-debut is try to examine some of my favorite songs, and figure out a) how they tick and b) what's appealing in them to myself. So, as I just beat the fuck out of a journalism exam, and I've got no pressing homework at the moment, I figure why not start now?

The first song I'm going to write about is The Beatles' "Hey Bulldog." I first found this track on the setlist of "The Beatles: Rock Band," as it was getting flack from The Internet for taking a space that should have been reserved for "Help!" or one of the other hundred excellent tracks that didn't make it into the game. The song itself is a Beatles B-side, cast aside during some recording session and re-purposed by the band for their animated film "Yellow Submarine." Of course, while most bands' b-sides are shitty excuses for music, one by Paul, John and company is fairly stellar. It's not my favorite Beatles song, but it always makes me smile.

The song itself opens with a killer piano riff that climbs up and then back down the ivories, followed by an innovative intro Ringo drumbeat on toms. They combine to create a fuller, faster sound than most Beatles songs are known for. George's riff and Paul's bass also make themselves known well, as they're fast and rocking.

John's lyrics pop in, and they're well-written. The song's not the most lyrically brilliant of the band's singles, but still has some killer lines: "What makes you think you're something special when you smile," John barks like the titular animal, and while the lyrics can get nonsensical (what the hell is a "bull grog?") they're poppy and light-hearted. "If you're lonely you can talk to me" isn't too far off from "if you're lonely, listen to our music."

The solo in "Hey Bulldog" is what brings the song from "pretty good" to "pretty fantastic." George riffs up the fretboard like a monster. For a 60's solo, it's pretty hard, and it really exemplifies the glee one can find in the Beatles' music. The way George twists the main riff, just a little bit, near the end of the solo with a short, high-pitched tremolo shows they're really having fun here.

Speaking of "fun," the other fun part of the song is the open studio atmosphere. Throughout the song, at least on my rip (which I assume is from an early release), you can hear members of the band talking, whispering and murmuring to one another. As the end nears, not only do they get louder, but the band actually starts barking like dogs, and a late call-and-response between Paul and John plays owner-master; "Ruff!" "You know any more?" Really, why I love "Hey Bulldog" has to be the interplay and happiness the band's showing, especially when you count that the band would be broken up two years later.

Hopefully this worked as actual writing. Next time, I'm going to write about Neko Case's fantastic "Deep Red Bells." LATERZZZ

Rebirth: A Rope Of Sand

Last night, as I took an evening drive with my friend Sid to... do nothing illegal, of course, we were talking about life, and such. I brought up my writing, he suggested that I get back at it, and I agreed. Thus, I have continued to write this blog, nearly a year after I stopped last time (holy christ).

Expect me to muse about life and write about entertainment and stuff (maybe some political stuff if I can glean enough understanding about a subject). I'm figuring I'll update whenever I have an hour I'm wasting, which will be somewhat often. Well, enjoy, once I start to actually write.