Branagh's Return as Actor and Director: This Time I Could See It All

Kenneth Branagh Theatre Company (Live) broadcast of William Shakespeare’s “The Winter’s Tale”

The Kenneth Branagh Theatre Company’s inaugural season plays Shakespeare’s “The Winter’s Tale” in London’s Garrick Theatre, a little jeweled box of candy.  The heavy, dark red curtain rose on a wintry scene – a sparse set given warmth by the Victorian Christmas tree surrounded by wrapped gifts and eventually members of a happy court.  As always, no one addresses God in Shakespeare, but Apollo is the god they pray to, and who freely shows his displeasure when disrespected.  

As ever, kudos to Christopher Oram for his thoughtful scenic and costume designs, as well as Neil Austin‘s beautiful lighting design.  Christopher Shutt’s sound design seemed to stutter a bit in the opening moments when the actors appeared to be in overly full voice and far from subtle.  Within a few moments, however, the sound evened out and was thereafter so well done that one did not note it.

Happily, the Garrick Theatre has a proscenium stage.   Some readers may recall that the last time I reviewed something directed by Kenneth Branagh I was rather annoyed with him and his co-director/ choreographer Rob Ashford.  [If you’ve forgotten, see http://www.mollyismusing.blogspot.com/2014/06/sound-only-signifying-nothing-or.html].  The advantage of a proscenium stage production is that Messrs. Branagh and Ashford can actually stage the play so that everyone in the auditorium can see everybody on stage.  Nice.

With regard to Mr. Branagh the actor, I must say that this is the first time (of three or four) I’ve seen “The Winter’s Tale” and given a damn about Leontes.  Every time that horrible man is unforgiveable, which makes the final sappy scene unbearable.  Kenneth Branagh is such a good actor that he delved into the man and found his heart and showed it to us.  Well done.

Dame Judi Dench in The Winter's Tale.

Dame Judi Dench is a powerful Paulina, here immediately introduced as an intimate of the family playing with the King’s son Mamillius (in a scene not penned by Shakespeare).  While Paulina is usually the same generation as Leontes, here she’s clearly a friend of his granny’s.  This is not a complaint:  Judi Dench can do anything as far as I’m concerned.  It’s just not how I generally think of Paulina, since everyone in the play ages 16 years between Acts I and IV.  Except those who die, of course.

Michael Pennington does fine comedic work as Paulina’s beleaguered husband Antigonus, loyal to his king and to his princess to the very last. Miranda Raison is a serene, confident and loving Hermione, well matched to Branagh’s Leontes.

Miranda Raison as Hermione and Kenneth Branagh as Leontes

In the opening scenes we see a convivial gathering of Leontes’ court, to which his childhood friend Polixenes, King of Bohemia, has been visitor for almost 9 months.  Hadley Fraser’s wide-ranging portrayal of Bohemia in the opening to a man some years older in the latter part of the play was always on the mark.  We also meet Camillo, Leontes’ loyal subject who is too good to do his king’s bidding.  John Shrapnel portrays the conscience of both kings he serves excellently. 

John Colgrave Hirst was a very tall, very funny Clown, Tom Bateman a fine Florizel, the young prince in love with the shepherdess Perdita, who is charmingly played by Jessie Buckley.  There were no sour notes in this cast, and I wish I were in London to see the entire season played by this company.

Extra:  During the intermission (a.k.a. the Interval) Rob Brydon spoke “The Shakespeare Poem” by Bernard Levin to illustrate how often in our daily discourse we quote Shakespeare.  Delightful.

My one gripe was not with the production itself but rather the filming of the production.  The “cinema broadcast” was directed by Benjamin Caron, who has also worked with Mr. Branagh on the PBS series Wallander.  Clearly he likes to photograph Mr. Branagh, unfortunately to the detriment of the production, Ms. Dench, Mr. Shrapnel, and the audience.  We want to see Paulina when she is haranguing Leontes, not only Leontes’ reaction.  Reactions are important and Mr. Branagh does them very well, but widen the shot.  We want to see Camillo as we hear him plead with Leontes, not merely Leontes’ reaction.  Widen the shot.  Show us the excellent staging by Branagh and Ashford.  This is not television.

The “film” of the play aside, this was a fine production of a difficult play, and I look forward to more from this company.
 

~ Molly Matera signing off and belatedly wishing you all a Happy, Healthy New Year.

Sound Only Signifying Nothing, or, Theatre for the 1 Percent

As far back as high school, I learned that a good director sits in every section of the house to see what the audience can see and hear.  She or he may then re-stage bits, scenes that are blocked from the view of certain sections of the house. Theatre, after all, is not a solitary art, nor is it meant only for the people in the first five rows.  Theatre does not exist until the audience joins. The audience is the final piece of the ensemble — any good director knows that.

Kenneth Branagh and Rob Ashford may, individually, be good directors.  But as their co-direction of Macbeth at the Park Avenue Armory demonstrates, as a team they are not good directors.  They set the scene for the “theatrical experience” to start as soon as tickets were scanned.  Based on their ticketed section numbers, audience members were given wristbands marked with the name of their clan, which groups were to gather before the performance so that all clans would enter the performance space (The Drill Hall of the Armory) together.  Sweet.

 

We Were MacDuffs.  Photo by Matt Hennessy

Alas, the seating ritual is the best part of the evening.  Walking down the stone path, between vast areas of the Scottish heath that fills the first half of a hall the size of a football field, is a sensory delight, peaty and dense, and thrillingly dark. 

The path ends at the Stonehenge-like formation at one end of the playing area, and there the clan veers left or right to the back stairs and climbs 5-6 flights to get to the seats.  Once there (my clan was seated first or second), we waited and watched for 35 minutes as the rest of the clans were brought in.  That made the play start 20 minutes later than scheduled, and made it clear that exiting the performance space would take a half hour as well. 

The Stonehenge Goalpost.  Photo by Matt Hennessy

Christopher Oram’s set and costume design are without doubt marvelous.  However, by the time most of the audience was seated, we knew that our view of the proceedings would be more than partially obscured (no we did not purchase “partially obscured” or “impaired view” seats).  The muddy central playing area was largely blocked by the row of heads of people in the seats ahead of us, and in the seats ahead of them, and on and on on, rather like the repeating series of Banquo descendants we would try to see later in the play.

From our $90 nosebleed seats, we could see that the goalpost on the far end of the performance space was loaded with candles and a cross and so must be an altar opposite the pre-Christian stone formations.  Clever.  Between these two extremes was a long dirt corridor separating two sets of bleachers, rather like an untended bocce court.  What was clear was that we’d have a hard time seeing anything or anyone between the goalposts.

Reviewers who liked this production presumably sat in the first five rows on either side of the performance area, near the 50-yard line, else how could they have seen all the spiffy staging? The Armory is a fascinating place, but it is not a theatre space.  The producers and directors and designers set it up well to get us into the mood for the Scottish play the way an art gallery might.  For a theatre-goer, the production of the play itself was wanting for all but the 1%.

 

Things We Could Not See (Photo by Sara Krulwich (c) 2014)

The atmospheric setting was gorgeous, but the action of the play and the players were barely visible to over 75% of the audience.  There was also the tennis match aspect, with characters speaking to one another from the altar end of the stage to the Stonehenge.  I would tilt my head one way and another in order to occasionally see a tiny head between the mass of heads before me.

When you cannot see anything, you listen.  After all, the root of the word audience is not about our eyes.  So we listened.  Listening without seeing is not something most of us are practiced in.  Our culture is not filled with radio plays or fireside chats.  Listening takes work.  And listening reveals a good deal.  And since most of what I did that evening was listen, I will note that the sound design by Christopher Shutt was excellent.

 

 

Macbeth was not a clever fellow, he was a brute.  Despite his always brilliant line readings (Mr. Branagh as an actor invariably finds a new way to say an old line and reveal its depths and shadings ̶ that, I believe, is his genius), I did not believe Branagh was Macbeth. Maybe if I could have seen him…. Alex Kingston fared better as his unladylike Lady – her initial ignorant enthusiasm for the thorny path on which she and her husband set out eventually twisted and spiraled out of control for her, physically and mentally.  She, at least, had the good sense to play her most famous scene upon a high platform over the altar so even we peasants in the $90 seats could see her. 

 

Alex Kingston as Lady MacB.  Duncan dead on the altar....Photo by Sara Krulwich.

While I liked Alexander Vlahos’ Malcolm most of the time, his very difficult and lengthy self-denigration in IViii rang false such that the wise MacDuff engagingly played by Richard Coyle would not have fallen for the subterfuge.  Jimmy Yuill’s Banquo was tough and hard and yet amusing.  Real live human being, that Banquo.

Other highlights in the cast that sounded very good were:

• Scarlett Strallen as Lady MacDuff
• Edward Harrison as Lennox
• John Shrapnel as Duncan

Servants were full of life, the three sisters were weird indeed, with high-pitched voices that were annoyingly fitting.  I hear that they levitated.  That would have been nifty to see.  Alas I could not.

 

Alexander Vlahos as Malcolm. Photo credit Sara Krulwich

I have seen many performances from the last seat of the last row of the highest balcony of the BAM Harvey Theatre, and while I may have needed binoculars to see facial expressions, I could see the whole stage and all the action of the play or dance program I was attending.  The Armory is not a theatre space.  It treats the audience as necessary evils to fill the seats and pay the bills and bamboozle with minimal views and too few ways out.  The play runs a brisk and correct two hours, but the audience is stuck in the space for closer to three.

This “review” is about the entire theatrical experience of this Macbeth at the Armory, not just the play, mostly because I could not see enough of the production to review it.  For this, Messrs. Branagh and Ashford are not forgiven.

What I can say is this --

• Setting:  Cool. 
• Staging:  Impossible to tell since we could not see.
• Therefore, Direction:  Abysmal.
• Acting probably good, but actors use their bodies as well as their voices, so as I could not see their bodies, my data is incomplete.

P.S. The following day, my friend Matthew got himself to Central Park at 6:30 in the morning, acquiring FREE seats for a marvelous production of Much Ado About Nothing directed by Jack O’Brien for the Public Theatre’s Shakespeare in the Park. (More on that anon.)  Free seats from which we could see the entire play, instead of $90 seats from which we could see Birnam Wood come to Dunsinane, but not much more. 

~ Molly Matera, recommending NO ONE EVER waste time or money going to see an alleged theatre piece at the Park Avenue Armory.

"Much Ado About Nothing" in the Whedonverse

Kenneth Branagh’s 1993 film of Much Ado About Nothing had one of the wittiest title shots I can recall.  I burst out laughing in the theatre when I first saw it, and it still tickles me.  It’s over the top, as is much of the film.  I like Branagh.  I love Joss Whedon.  I like Kenneth Branagh’s work as an actor better than that of Alexis Denisoff.  And yet, watching Branagh’s delightful Much Ado, his Benedick seemed to be overdoing it a bit — downright broad for film.  This did not diminish my enjoyment of that Much Ado then or now.  Set in a vivid and hot Italian landscape in another century, Branagh’s film was more. exuberant than Whedon’s modern version, which setting required something resembling realism. 

Joss Whedon said in an interview that he felt some of the choices made by characters in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing had to have been made under the influence, which makes sense.  Perhaps therefore everyone in this film is drinking excessively.  While Kenneth Branagh’s production of Much Ado was lush, in Joss Whedon’s film everyone is a lush.

The innocence of a period film’s ingénue and juvenile (Hero and Claudio) cannot be captured in a film set in the 21^st century.  That presents a problem, yet not as great a one as the fact of Don Pedro and his followers.  They wear no uniforms, yet they carry guns.  They are not soldiers.  In what wars do civilians in well-cut suits carry guns?  Drug wars?  In the 21^st century, must give one pause to wonder if Don Pedro’s a drug lord.  And his brother Don John tried to strike out on his own.  What was “this ended action” (I.i) about?  The scene in which Benedick challenges Claudio is extremely well acted by Don Pedro (Reed Diamond), Claudio (Fran Kranz), and Benedick (Denisoff), but that he was carrying a gun made Benedick a troublesome personage.  It tends to make him look like a hood.  Don Pedro and Benedick and Leonato and Claudio don’t seem like they’d be involved in the illicit drug trade.  This problem and that of Claudio’s churlish behavior at an American 21st century wedding are slight distractions from the pleasures of the film.

Amy Acker as Beatrice and Jillian Morgese as Hero.  (c) 2012 Elsa Guillet-Chapuis & Roadside Attractions

Alexis Denisoff surprised me with his adept use of Shakespeare’s language in a modern setting.  The chemistry between Denisoff and Amy Acker has been well documented in their years together on Whedon’s television series, Angel.  I never had doubts about Acker — I had complete faith she was great casting as Beatrice, and the pairing did not disappoint.  Ms. Acker’s Beatrice is highly intelligent, her wit sharp, her heart aching.  The pair was funny and believable whether fighting or loving. 

Reed Diamond is excellent: straightforward and real as Don Pedro whether serious or comic.  I’ve always liked his work, but this side of him surprised me, quite pleasurably.  Fran Kranz is sweetly hilarious as the foolish Claudio.  The party scene in which Claudio rises from the pool in a snorkeling mask (see poster) only to be misguided by the heads above water belonging to Don John, Borachio and Conrade was incredibly funny and quite possibly the best I’ve seen that scene done.

Sean Maher, whom I would not have envisioned as Don John, was a fine, understated villain and I quite liked his performance.  Clark Gregg was a goodhearted Leonato, struggling with what seems to be (but regrettably probably is not) an outdated character and trying to bring him likeably into the present.

Lenk as Verges and Nathan Fillion as Dogberry.  (c) 2012 Elsa Guillet-Chapuis & Roadside Attractions

I’ve been a fan of Nathan Fillion since Firefly, and am delighted that he took on Dogberry for this film.  He plays the famously mangled lines absolutely straight, so the humor really works.  Dogberry’s ego shines through, and just little touches make the “low” humor parts of the story truly funny.  Clearly, physical comedy need not be violent.

Jillian Morgese was practically a real live girl as the ingénue Hero, filling the blanks of that thankless role with a level of self-confidence in addition to obedience.

Beatrice eavesdrops....

Ashley Johnson as Margaret was excellent, old-fashioned while modern, innocently knowing.  Emma Bates was very good as Ursula, and Riki Lindhome was quite interesting as Conrade, a different sort of companion for Don John.

Dull as dishwater, however, was Spencer Treat Clark as Borachio until the moment he heard Hero was dead, which brought to him a spark of life.  Tom Lenk as Verges was dull and obviously acting.  Romy Rosemont as the Sexton brought some gravitas to the legal proceedings but, more, made us believe she had a life waiting for her when those danged fools stopped talking.

Elsa Guillet-Chapuis as the Photographer was focused and intent on her work, a naturally unnatural part of the proceedings. 

The costume party scene is a sultry modern gas; the world of excess that is in this 21^st century Much Ado seems so much more vulgar than the aristocratic excesses of the past.

I keep comparing these two very different films of the same Shakespeare play, but they’re both wonderful and exciting in their very different ways.  Joss Whedon’s film is in a lower key than Kenneth Branagh’s, as it must be since it is set in the present and in a small, intimate, black-and-white film.  (I love black and white.  It seems some how more real to me than color.)  And Whedon’s addition of a silent prologue providing us a glimpse into the back-story of a modern Benedick and Beatrice’s relationship was priceless. 

While the 21^st century works just fine for Shakespearean tragedy, somehow this romantic comedy that is the beginning and model for all romantic comedies just didn’t quite work in our time.  Joss Whedon’s Much Ado About Nothing is a film I’ve been looking forward to for years, and while I enjoyed it, I did not walk out of the theatre whistling, or floating on air.  I never thought I’d say this about a Whedon Shakespeare film, but although I liked it, I did not love it.

~ Molly Matera, recommending the film, while accepting the disappointment of reality.

Much Ado About Something

The something is a breezy production of Much Ado About Nothing by Theatre For a New Audience.  Last winter I saw TFANA’s Arin Arbus-directed production of The Taming of the Shrew  with Maggie Siff as Kate.  This year the same director pairs Maggie Siff as Beatrice with the marvelous Jonathan Cake as Benedick. 

TFANA makes excellent use of the space at the Duke Theatre on 42^nd Street.  Again they create multiple playing levels by using the catwalk above the two-stepped stage, plus a tree for climbing and hiding.  As if that weren’t enough, there’s an extra variable level: a swing for Beatrice, Benedick, then both to rise and fall on.  This clever, compact scenic design by Riccardo Hernandez is both warm and practical, as is the lighting design by Donald Holder.  Director Arbus set the play in Italy before World War I, so the men’s costuming is fairly modern while the women are still in the confining clothing of the prewar period, illustrating the difference in levels of social freedom accorded to each sex, which feeds the Don John subplot that casts doubt on Hero’s chastity.  That said, the costuming by Constance Hoffman is less than exciting, but the hair is fabulous.

Any production of Much Ado must find the balance between the light and dark of its two storylines, since the lightness of the primary romance between the juvenile and the ingénue is darkened by the evil machinations of Don John.  Claudio and Hero are such dull creatures that they couldn’t carry a standard romance, so Shakespeare threw in the classical “chaste-maid-falsely-accused” plot to keep it moving.  Unfortunately for a modern audience this plot causes some issues; for instance, we cannot understand why Margaret does not speak up immediately upon recognizing her own actions falsely ascribed to Hero as the bride is falsely accused at the church.  But not to worry.  Beatrice and Benedick elucidate all while falling more deeply in love. 

Cake and Siff are good partners, their sprightly badinage a challenge and a delight to classical actors.  Reluctant lovers Beatrice & Benedick are the ancestors of every good romantic team in theatre and film — think Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant in Bringing Up Baby, Grant and Rosalind Russell in His Girl Friday, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers in, well, anything.  Maggie Siff is having a fine time as Beatrice, but is not having quite as much fun as Jonathan Cake is having with Benedick — he’s having such a lark that he almost sweats his beard off.  Seeing this production makes me think of Kenneth Branagh’s 1993 film, that of the spectacularly funny opening credits, and the magical connection between Branagh and then-wife Emma Thompson as Benedick and Beatrice.  They were magnificent because of the sparks each created in the other.  Siff and Cake are good, but the magic doesn’t quite happen. 

Photo by Richard Perry (c) 2013 New York Times

I recall that Michelle Beck’s performance as Celia in the Bridge Project’s As You Like It was uneven, and here, too, she sometimes overcomes the character Hero as written, then other times succumbs to the blandness, as most actors do.  Her occasional flashes of anger at her accuser are most welcome.  Matthew Amendt’s Claudio is childishly enthusiastic, then jealous, and his work at the tomb of his bride is moving, but his Claudio has less depth than Ms. Beck’s Hero.

Graham Winton is a vulnerable Don Pedro, and his proposal to Beatrice is quite touching, her rejection even more painful.  John Keating, not unusually, plays two opposite roles and both quite well, the priest and Verges.

Robert Langdon Lloyd does heartfelt work as Leonato, father of Hero. It’s always good to see Peter Maloney, here twice blessed as Leonato’s brother Antonio and the Sexton.  John Christopher Jones’ Dogberry stumbled over the English language with veracity and vigor.

Denis Butkus and Paul Niebanck work well together as Conrade and Borachio respectively, the followers of the villainous Don John, who is played with a quirky intensity by Saxon Palmer.

Kate MacCluggage is quite entertaining as the overly friendly Margaret.  Elizabeth Meadows Rouse as her pal Ursula is rather amateurish — she seems to be playing a stock character, in common with the other tertiary characters such as Balthazar and the Watch.

.  Cake as Benedick and Siff as Beatrice.  Photo (c) 2013 by Gerry Goodstein

The company is charming and energetic and the audience is happy to spend a few hours with them.  Arin Arbus’ leading actors did fine work together, always returning to the witty and swell repartee of Beatrice and Benedick.  This Much Ado About Nothing is a cleverly pleasant evening in the theatre and runs through April 6th.

~ Molly Matera, signing off once I’ve ordered the DVD of the Branagh film.

Thor, F.K.A. God of Thunder

As a child, I was a fan of Marvel Comics’ “Thor” series.  I beg my dear friends who memorized every frame of every comic to forgive me – I don’t actually remember them at all now. What I clearly recall is that, like some other good comics, “Thor” led me back to its source, and I added Norse mythology to my reading of Greek, Roman, and eventually Native American mythologies.  Not to mention folk and fairy tales.  My favorite characters were often tricksters, fellows -- or sometimes critters -- who, whether evil or just a little bit bad, live by their wits and are oftentimes witty. Tom Hiddleston makes his superheroes debut as Thor’s “brother” Loki, the trickster of Norse mythology.  Hiddleston is terrific, his narrow face alternately a mask of serious contemplation and one of wicked delight.  He holds his own with the powerful Anthony Hopkins as Odin and the brash lead, Chris Hemsworth, as Thor.

My friend Horvendile wrote in his review of this film that he believed director Kenneth Branagh whispered in his actors’ ears that this was really Shakespeare -- http://matthewslikelystory.blogspot.com/2011/05/you-will-believe-god-can-make-breakfast.html.  This may be true.  Not that it’s Shakespeare, but that Branagh and most of his actors (those in Asgard, at least!) gave every character and every word the weight of serious storytelling, and therefore much of this tale works.  The effects don’t particularly work -- one or two images involving the magnificent Idris Elba as Heimdall were awesome and memorable, but mostly not so much. 

Chris Hemsworth does well by the arrogant fool Thor – that is, Thor the son of a king, a ‘god’ to mere mortals who has unfortunately not yet been defeated and is therefore obnoxious in a comic book way.  While he’s no Robert Downey, Jr., Hemsworth plays Thor’s humiliation convincingly.  He’s a bit over the top as a god, but that is a nice contrast to Hiddleston’s low-key Loki and Hopkins’ discreet Odin.  The real power lies, of course, with the quiet old man whose words or tears can bring a magical object to life. 

Visually, Asgard, home of Odin, Thor, et.al., may be accurate to the comic, but does not convey the Asgard of my imagination from reading Norse mythology.  It just never seemed to me so shiny.  Of course, this film is based on the comics, so don’t crack open your mythology books.  In any case, the scenes in the upper realms are undeniably gorgeous, breathtaking, and fanciful. The concept of the bridge of the nine realms as a wormhole was fun, but the visuals didn’t move me as much as I would have anticipated.  

In general I found the fighting and battle scenes a bit choppy, special effects taking precedence over following what was going on, so I was not engaged in those sections.  Thor’s closest allies are not adequately introduced – I suspect the filmmakers assumed everyone who came to the movie would know who they were.  They popped up to offer analysis or to bump the plot forward but left no lasting impression.   

The cast is heavily weighted to residents of Asgard, with a few interesting humans:

  Chris Hemsworth is comic book broad as Thor the son of Odin, funny on occasion, a brash bully at other times.  Once in New Mexico, he has some really nice moments, some dull moments, some funny moments.  I didn't even recognize Hemsworth as George Kirk, father of the new Jim Kirk in the new “Star Trek,” despite my many viewings of that film.  He does good work in "Thor," worth watching as he grows.

  Tom Hiddleston is an utter delight, subdued and clever as the nice to naughty to villainous Loki. 

  Anthony Hopkins reigns as Odin, every inch a king, perhaps as wild as Thor in his youth, but wiser and kinder with age and experience.

  Idris Elba is gorgeous as Heimdall, majestic, all-hearing and all-seeing with his golden eyes.

  Colm Feore is as intriguing as ever as King Laufey, commanding, compelling, and contrarily vulnerable as the King of the “Frost Giants.”  Yes, the name is silly, but take one look at these guys, and they’re dangerous, not silly; nor are they monsters.  They are citizens of a conquered realm, and I found myself, just for a moment, rooting for them when the boastful bully Thor went against his father’s orders and made war with the ancient enemy. The frozen guys are worthy villains, big and angry and scary. 

  Rene Russo is classy as Frigga, wife of Odin, mother of Thor, quite believable.   

  Natalie Portman as Jane Foster, allegedly human, allegedly a scientist.  Don’t make me laugh. 

  Stellan Skarsgård is decidedly human as Professor Erik Selvig, scientist, friend and father figure to Jane Foster. 

  Kat Dennings is absolutely human as Darcy Lewis, the unscientific research assistant with the better lines. In a clear counterpoint to Ms. Portman, she’s cute and sassy.

  Clark Gregg is deceptively strong as the human, man-in-black, Agent Coulson.  He links the elements of the franchise together, and his appearance in the story made me sit up and say, ooh, what’re they up to now.

On planet Earth, the New Mexico scenes are dusty and entertaining, particularly when Skarsgård and Hemsworth go out drinking.  Guess who wins.  Thor the fallen “God of Thunder” in a desert town is out of place, and that’s always fun to watch.  Building the broader story and franchise, Agent Coulson from the “Iron Man” films shows up in the desert in his black suit raiding the headquarters of the “scientists” who found the fallen Thor.  Under Coulson’s leadership, a cool government-type complex is built around Thor’s hammer overnight, proving that S.H.I.E.L.D. is not a government agency at all.

While not a religious person, twice I was struck by certain overtones – first when Thor is cast out.  He is not merely sent to go learn his lesson; nor is this a vision quest.  He is cast out of Asgard, a realm seemingly high above the Earth, so it’s rather like …an angel being cast out of heaven by his father.  Stripped of his powers, unable to pull the sword – ahem, I mean hammer – from the stone, and beaten by the power of S.H.I.E.L.D. (those “men in black” who seem to be bad guys to the uninitiated), Thor cries out in agony, wordless, but in my mind I heard “Father, why have you forsaken me?” 

Yes, “Thor” has its moments.  It is more than a building block in the franchise, yet it’s not quite complete in itself, making it a bit of a tease (particularly in the all-too-brief appearance by Jeremy Renner).  There were some delightful moments and good scenes in this movie, but though some may be drawn to its effects, I don’t think that’s what director Branagh was focused on.  With the exception of Ms. Portman, I think Mr. Branagh was having fun with his actors, testing them, teasing them, giving them full rein, then pulling them in at precisely the right moments.  Ms. Portman has an interesting mask of a face, but is totally unbelievable and out of place here, so I choose to believe Mr. Branagh was stuck with her. 

In terms of the screenplay, I can only recall a single line of this film – it was delivered by Jeremy Renner, simply, sincerely.  Listen for it.  What I vividly recall are the faces – Hopkins, Hiddleston, Hemsworth, Elba, Feore – and the emotions behind them.  The story moves briskly, attention does not flag, so Mr. Branagh and the many screenwriters (Ashley Miller, Zack Stentz, and Don Payne, based on a story by J. Michael Straczynski and Mark Protosevich, and of course all of this based on the comic books by Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, and Jack Kirby) have manipulated the words and the frames and the characters pretty darn well.

This is one of those movies that rewards viewers who watch the whole thing.  If you don’t respect the thousands of people it takes to make a movie enough to sit through the closing credits, you’re going to miss a delightful scene.  Nyah nyah. I laughed with pleasure as I stood alone in the theatre, enjoying the promise of things to come.  “Thor” is not up to the (unattainable?) level of the first “Iron Man,” but it is good summer fun.  Go on and sit in a cold auditorium for a couple hours.

~ Molly Matera, turning off the computer but not the light.  I need that to re-read some mythology….