By James O’brien
Last updated at 1:42 AM on 29th April 2011
Verdict: It’s Thor-some
Rating: Rating: 
A little extra: Newcomer Chris Hemsworth is predictably muscle-bound as Thor – but he also surprises
Contrary to what we mere mortals may believe, it is not easy being a god.
Granted, superhuman strength and eternal life have their attractions, and heavenly realms are, to the best of my knowledge, untroubled by trivialities such as mortgages and utility bills.
But deities have their problems, too, and Thor, the Norse god of thunder as imagined by the Sixties Marvel comic strips, here has a helmet-full.
As the predictably muscle-bound heir to the throne of Asgard, Thor (newcomer Chris Hemsworth) suffers the indignity of having his investiture disrupted by an invasion of Frost Giants — the arch (and previously vanquished) enemies of the realm.
Given his associations with thunder and lightning, it isn’t a shock to learn that the big man has what could loosely be termed ‘anger management issues’.
Thor is deaf to any counsel, save that which chimes with his desire for immediate vengeance.
The regal arrogance with which he seeks to overrule his father Odin (Anthony Hopkins, joining a British thespian/mythological pedigree traceable at least to Laurence Olivier’s seminal Zeus in Clash Of The Titans) provides the first clue to an unlikely presence in the director’s chair.
Kenneth Branagh (for it is he) has drawn on his Shakespearean scholarship to imbue his cast with a sense of the epic.
And if there are distinct echoes of Coriolanus in Thor’s patrician intransigence, then his altogether subtler brother Loki (the magnificent Tom Hiddleston), god of mischief, has clearly been studying Othello’s Iago and Julius Caesar’s Cassius.
Indeed, the sly and sycophantic insinuations with which he encourages his brother towards rashness and potential peril are quite beautifully observed, and a crucial constituent of Thor’s considerable hubris.
Accompanied by Loki and his Warriors Three — Fandral (Josh Dallas), Hogun (Tadanobu Asano) and Volstagg (Ray Stevenson) — Thor defies Odin (and logic) to launch an attack on the Frost Giants.
And while he can certainly look after himself, both odds and fates are ultimately stacked against him and his magic hammer.
Odin intervenes in the nick of time and, exasperated, banishes his eldest boy to Earth where, hammerless and powerless, he must learn the error of his ways. So far, so superhero.
Love: The earth-stranded and mortal Thor has to win the heart of Natalie Portman’s character Jane Foster
It is when Thor reaches the New Mexico desert that this first-class film begins to yield up its more unexpected treats.
An opening scene in which storm-chasing scientist Jane Foster (Natalie Portman) ran over a muscly mystery man while pursuing an immense meteorological anomaly is quickly made sense of. It was Thor, of course!
The meeting sets the scene for a mix of chaste romance, race-against-time thriller and supremely deft comedy.
For despite now possessing nothing of note save a rippling torso, our hero is resolutely rooted in his King of the Gods mindset. His language is archaic and chivalrous, his manner absurdly anachronistic and his fury undimmed — but the suspicion that his heart is huge swiftly begins to grow.
Excellent foil: Tom Hiddleston
He seeks ‘sustenance’, not food; expresses approval of a diner’s coffee by smashing his mug and, in one of many moments of genuine hilarity, strides into a suburban pet shop to ‘demand a horse’.
His hammer — which landed in the desert shortly after its owner — has meanwhile brought a whole host of shady government types to investigate the extra-terrestrial possibilities.
And back in Asgard, Loki embarks upon a plan which makes Machiavelli look lightweight.
What follows is Thor’s frantic, frequently funny and often poignant attempt to rescue his hammer, defeat his brother, reclaim his birthright and, in a romance of unique decorousness, get the girl.
Oscillating between bombast and puzzled vulnerability, Hemsworth is pitch-perfect.
Comically aware but mindful of his character’s sheer scale, he makes the potentially ridiculous credible and takes the character on a compelling journey.
As Loki, British actor Hiddleston is absurdly good, hooded eyes alive with ambition and, most impressively, capable of eliciting sympathy in the most unlikely of circumstances.
If he seems more comfortable among the soaring — and occasionally silly — CGI landscapes of Asgard than on this mortal coil, then it is only because the character would be.
Of the three leads, Miss Portman is given the least help. But, ably assisted by Stellan Skarsgard and Kat Dennings as her partners-in-science, she brings enthusiasm and wide-eyed idealism to the role.
There is so much to like here, and so little to quibble about, that a new superhero franchise has almost certainly been born.
For Hiddleston — and, to a lesser extent, Hemsworth — so have potentially stellar movie careers.
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• The premise for The Veteran is promising.
A former Para, with scars more mental than physical, returns from Afghanistan after suffering a crisis of conscience and seeks a station in the country he was ostensibly fighting for.
A ‘good’ man, Miller (Toby Kebbell) comes back to the bleak, gang-plagued London estate of his youth and embarks upon a miserable and haunted consideration of his own usefulness.
An ex-comrade introduces him to a shadowy Home Office department headed by Gerry (Brian Cox) and Chris (Tony Curran), who seem to be fighting Islamic extremists in Britain. Briefly, Miller finds somewhere he fits in.
It is, however, director Matthew Hope’s intention to inform us that nothing is ever as it seems.
War, as seen through the eyes of the unconvincing gang leader and ultimate nemesis Tyrone (Ashley Thomas), is a CIA conspiracy.
Security services, as represented by an uncomfortable-looking Cox and his cronies, protect trade routes, not people — and challenging this status quo is futile.
Indeed, in Hope’s unspeakably bleak world, everything is futile. This adolescent conclusion propels Miller towards a laughably absurd but bloody denouement — and the audience, I fear, towards slumber.
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