Zack Snyder’s “Twilight of the Gods” is now streaming on Netflix.
Zack Snyder’s partnership with Netflix has been one of diminishing returns, with projects like Army of the Dead and Rebel Moon films (and a shamelessly promoted director’s cut) promising to overdeliver. The animated series Twilight of the Gods is positioned as one of the Justice League director’s most extravagant, blood-and-sex-filled creative endeavors, but despite a number of dull elements, it manages to end up as a surprisingly gripping blockbuster instead.
At first glance, Twilight of the Gods is Kill Bill in Viking clothing. Like most of Snyder’s work, the visuals are nothing short of stunning, like Germanic paintings brought to life by a collaboration between French studio Xilam Animation and Snyder’s production company, The Stone Quarry. In the first two episodes, warriors Leif and Sigrid’s wedding night is attacked by Thor, the god of thunder, who is relentlessly pursuing the trickster god Loki. After surviving Thor’s brutal attack, the tragic couple joins up with a group of similarly downtrodden warriors who now have nothing left to lose, and embark on a journey of revenge. The story that follows is chock-full of ultra-violence, sex, slow-motion action sequences, and childish humor, the latter of which is so jarring that it almost overshadows every other line.
One of the most fascinating aspects of Twilight of the Gods is the tumultuous relationship between Sigrid and Leif. As a “blood bride,” Sigrid is as disdainful of mortal consequences and willing to cast aside caution as the gods she despises, while Leif wrestles with the warlike sins of his past in his new life as a paragon of justice. This often brings the two into conflict, and Leif’s newfound integrity leads the party to brand him a five-letter coward.
As he showed with 300, Snyder is at his best when he colors within the framework of already established gods while leaving plenty of room for creative freedom. Sigrid fits the filmmaker’s taste for power fantasy storytelling without offending history buffs. Not much is known about the historical figure she is based on, but what is known is that she was “arrogant” and one of the most powerful Viking queens of all time. One historical record states that she burned her suitors to death in their homes to scare them away. Twilight of the Gods’ Sigrid is less antagonistic, but we still get a glimpse of the real-life Sigrid’s mean side. Unfortunately, despite his best efforts to pack in backstories in the second half of the season, the remaining party members struggle to establish themselves beyond vague character archetypes. This has led Snyder and company to commit a lot of their production and intrigue to existing Norse mythology.
Unlike Sucker Punch, Watchmen and the twilight years of the DC Cinematic Universe, Snyder’s uneven experiment with style is a perfect fit for Twilight of the Gods. There are overlong, awkward sex scenes, gratuitously slow-motion action sequences and a string of lurid one-liners with genitalia punchlines. It all feels tone-appropriate given that Vikings, and the Norse gods in the stories they told, treated strangers and kin alike.
To make sense of this penchant for corruption, Twilight of the Gods weaves in the theme of myth not living up to reality (“Poems about benevolent gods are lies” etc.). This leads to a parodically cruel Thor, but also provides an anchor in the form of Paterson Joseph’s multifaceted portrayal. The character begins as an enemy of both Sigrid and Thor, instigating their deadly battle from the shadows to achieve his own mysterious ends, but ultimately Loki is revealed to be just as much a victim as Sigrid. The only difference is that he is expected to hold up the appearance of an agent of chaos rather than the tragic hero of his story.
