Thor. (Thor 1)

Thor. (Thor 1)

Thor is a brother. A prince. King. Lover. Fighter. Avenger. His identity is wrapped so tightly around these fragments that if he lets go, he’ll fall to pieces. But he’s fragmented because he shattered. And he shattered because of what happened in Thor: God of Thunder. 

Thor’s arc in the first movie, I believe, centers around the idea of consequences. It’s not falling in love with Jane, it’s not Asgard, not someone slapping him over the head. It’s the fact that his choices suddenly have weight and meaning. 

Thor gets banished for slaughtering Jotun unprovoked. 

Thor’s relationship with Jane, Darcy, and Erik is poor because he’s treating them like crap. 

Thor fails to capture his hammer because he’s not worthy. (To whatever standard Odin has set.) 

Thor, as he’s told, is the catalyst of his father’s death. 

There’s this moment in this scene when you can watch his face go from earnest to oh. That was me. I did that. Me. Not you. ME.

Thor is the prince of Asgard, which is basically an empire of nine worlds. He is used to having diplomatic immunity. He could do no wrong. With that ripped out away from him, Thor doesn’t talk. He shuts down, and settles inside himself, thinking. 

Not reacting. Thinking. 

Thor isn’t an idiot. He’s impulsive, there’s a difference. His first reaction is violence, because he was raised in a society where slapping your enemies over the head brutally was just something that was done. As much as I love Frigga, when Thor was banished, in the deleted scene, she didn’t go to Odin so tell him oh my gosh, our son killed all these Jotuns, why didn’t we teach him better? She complains that Odin’s punishment was too harsh. 

Thor has never been told to stretch this much, and had it stick before. And Loki does it. He does it in a way that’s a little cruel, and cold, but he tells Thor to stop being such an idiot. 

And Thor, miracle of miracles, actually listens. 

This is not a story of Thor becoming worthy. This is the story of Thor realizing where his priorities need to be. It’s the story of him growing up. 

And this is where we get to my final point. I think that almost none of this–none of it–would have sunk deeply into Thor’s psyche if Loki didn’t fall of the Bifrost when they fought. 

Look at them. Loki is dangling. Thor is being held onto by his foot. 

And Thor doesn’t care. 

Because the only thing he’s focused on is his little brother. Hanging there. Dying. His best friend that just tried to kill all the Jotuns. His confidante that just disowned him. His biggest supporter that fought him. And Thor doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know what Loki uncovered at that point.

This is just his brother who is going to die if he doesn’t do anything. 

And then Loki addresses his last words to their father. Not him. Their father. And Odin rejects him. It always struck me that Thor sees Loki’s face close off and then immediately knows what Loki is going to do. He’s not surprised, he’s not shocked. He knows. Loki lets go, and Thor can’t catch him.

Thor can fly. Odin didn’t let him go until Loki was beyond any chance of recovery, and Thor blamed himself. He’s solemn after Loki’s death. He rejects his parents’ and friends’ comfort. He goes to Heimdall to start looking out for Jane, because he is not going to let someone else he cares about slip beyond his reach. 

Thor’s consequence for his actions in Thor 1 was his brother. And that nearly killed him. Thor 1 was never, never about becoming worthy. At least, not for Thor.

“How is he?”

“He mourns for his brother.”