Thor (2011)

© Paramount Pictures

I was more confused than excited when it was announced that Kenneth Branagh would be directing Thor. The fact that he didn't cast himself in it was a positive sign, but the trailer and tv spots made the movie look more dull than anything else. Though it's not a top shelf Marvel adaptation (not as sprightly as Iron Man or as deliciously weird and weighty as Spider-Man 2), the movie's pretty good. Don't bother with the 3D, though; at one point I asked my viewing companion if anything was even in 3D. Maybe Mjölnir came at us at some point?

What took me by surprise was how much I like Thor, the character. Here's the thing about the god of war: he's remarkably angst-free. Sure, some stuff gets him down, but he bounces back awfully quickly. He's not a orphan, nothing tragic happens to give him his abilities or drive, he wastes no time in adapting to Earth, and, when he likes a girl, he just goes ahead and lets her know. None of this "can't be with you in order to protect you" malarkey. He learns a few necessary lessons, and it's all derry-doing from there on out. He's practically Errol Flynn, if Errol Flynn were a giant war-mongering Labrador retriever. Depending on who you read, Chris Hemsworth is either serviceable or turning in a star-making performance. I was going to tell you to split the difference to find something closer to the truth, but, given how much I like the role, a good part of that must be down to Hemsworth (or as I initially typed, "The Hemsworth"). I should just admit that I love that big slab of beefcake. Seriously, though, he is huge.

Juxtaposing him with teeny Natalie Portman makes for an effective sight gag, but it's the lovely way that serious scientist Jane Foster comes undone by the courtly colossus that really makes the relationship (and the movie) tick. Stellan Skarsgård is equally up for some good old fashioned Norse fun, and I bet he had plenty of Viking advice to pass on the Hemsworth, given that he is the father of one. The vision of Asagard as a 1930s golden wonderland presided over by Anthony Hopkins is just icing. 

Though it could do with a little more substance, it's a decent first outing and an excellent addition to the rapidly expanding Marvel movie universe. B

Black Swan (2010)

Natalie Portman

© Fox Searchlight

A dancer perfect to portray the White Swan loses her mind trying to develop the duality necessary to portray the Black Swan when she's cast as the Swan Queen.

As an over-boiled body horror thriller, this movie's aces. As much pretty anything else, not so much. I must admit I was disappointed to see that Darren Aronofsky's Black Swan is merely good, not a masterpiece. He certainly tries hard: all the close ups of toes en pointe or even Nina (Natalie Portman) and her mother (Barbara Hershey) ripping up and remaking her slippers hold a certain fascination for their insight into a world plagued by body issues, workplace sexual harassment, and cutthroat competition.

The movie's certainly spooky (rehearsal spaces have never looked so creepy), but it's too serious to be much else. If only it could, as Nina is repeatedly told to do, loosen up a little. There are a few moments of levity (Rothbart's casual backstage "hey" chief among them) that make me think that Aronofsky is this uptight deliberately. Which is a shame because it makes Portman's performance, captivating though it is, ever-so-slightly unsympathetic (if everyone you know tells you to assert yourself and you won't, how long can the audience root for you?).

Still, technical and acting props for the shudder-inducing swan transformation at the end and Clint Mansell's beautiful, frightening take on Tchaikovsky's timeless work. Mila Kunis and Winona Ryder are such hilarious bitches that I almost want to hug them, and Vincent Cassel is some sort of a genius for making me think that despite his abuse, he actually cares about helping Nina progress as a dancer.

As it is, the movie is more trashy than full-on camp but too plagued by its intense focus to be much of either. "Just like Nina!", you might defend, but tell the truth: would you really prefer a movie about the White Swan to the Black one? B