Zack Snyder's Norse Mythology Comic

Whatever you might think of Zack Snyder as a storyteller, he's always had a knack for creating stunning visuals, and that holds true for his latest effort, Netflix Twilight of the Gods. Stone Quarry Animation reimagines Norse mythology with vibrant colors and sleek, expressive lines that transform into impressive monsters towering over panoramic vistas or massive battlefields punctuated by lightning bolts, bloody explosions, and slow-motion leaps through the air.

As a work simply to be watched a, it's a thing of beauty. Alas, as a thing to emotionally invest in, it's rather lacking. The series is chock-full of larger-than-life characters who seem very interesting, but have little patience to really get to know them. As a result, it rings hollow, even as its heroes and villains go about the weighty business of reshaping the universe.

At the center of the story, co-created by Snyder, Jay Oliva and Eric Carrasco, is Sigrid (voiced by Sylvia Hoeks), a fierce warrior who once won the heart of an equally formidable king, Leif (Stuart Martin), saving his life in battle. But when the storm god Thor (Pilou Asbaek) makes an unexpected and unwelcome visit, what should have been a peaceful wedding turns into a horrific bloodbath. Sigrid emerges alive, but with a burning desire for revenge. Taking to heart the motto of her defunct clan—”We fear no gods!”—she sets out to do nothing less than kill Thor himself.

Twilight of the Gods' the protagonists are men and women of action, and with eight chapters of less than 30 minutes each, their story practically moves along at a rocket pace. As soon as Sigrid announces that she misses her homeland, she and Leif gallop off for a visit, and as soon as she decides she needs god-killing weapons, she gets them from the dwarf blacksmith Andvari (Kristofer Hivju). Towards the beginning of the second episode, he announces his plan to recruit five very special followers for his supposed suicide mission. The suspense runs out when it only takes her 15 minutes to find them.

From there the band speeds along, whisking us from one dramatic spectacle to another. Over the course of the season, Sigrid journeys to the underworld and back; floats down a river choked with the spirits of unjustly drowned women; and hurls herself into the great golden halls of giants and gods. She and her people encounter hissing armies of the dead and winged Valkyrie figurines and beasts as tall as mountains.

Nearly every episode culminates in at least one brutal, magic-filled conflict, and like its fellow Netflix TV-MA adventure Blue-eyed Samurai, Twilight of the Gods doesn’t hold back when it comes to violence. The fighters slice people in half, crush skulls with their bare hands, and hammer their way through bodies like they’re smashing piñatas. They also tend to be a sexually outspoken bunch, casual about nudity and unashamed of their carnal urges. But while the show is quite explicit, its sex scenes have a touch of self-consciousness that makes them more awkward than hot. A guy casually spilling his backstory in the middle of a threesome feels like the work of a show trying to remind you how grown up he is, not someone comfortable with his own sensuality.

Or maybe it reflects a show that is uncertain whether it can capture the audience's attention without boobs or blood. The irony is that Twilight of the Gods is most compelling when it pauses long enough to let its characters think and feel, not just act. A plot that has Leif and Loki relive their most painful memories adds a layer of tragedy to the latter, as he bitterly (and not unfairly) observes that he exists only to be blamed. Leif’s earnest but clear-eyed devotion to Sigrid becomes our most sensitive barometer for what this mission is doing to his soul. An unexpected flirtation between Seid-Kona (Jamie Clayton), a feared witch, and Egill (Rahul Kohli), Leif’s charismatic slave, becomes a welcome sweet spot in a tale that otherwise prioritizes anger and angst.

But none of these more intimate storylines are given the space to grow to their full potential. Often, the series resorts to simply telling us what the characters feel, rather than waiting for them to show it to us. Thor stumbles into a strange romance with the goddess of defeat, Sandraudiga (an uncannily charming Jessica Henwick), but we barely get a chance to wonder what it is before two other characters have an entire conversation explaining his motivations. The hearts, souls, and psyches of these characters are treated as footnotes to the epic clashes between them, rather than the sole reasons we should care what happens to this entire fictional group in the first place.

Although Twilight of the Gods is constantly moving, never managing to get anywhere terribly interesting. The season finale is built around the war these characters have been building to since day one, and it pulls out all the stops. The fighting is a relentless cacophony of sound and fury, cut together faster than the human brain (or at least my human brain) can process. Some of the most daring imagery so far appears in visions Odin (John Noble) has of the far future, including an apparition of a god that made me say “What the fuck?” alone in my living room.

Yet after a while, I realized that I wasn't really following what was happening anymore, largely because I had stopped caring enough to make the effort. Sigrid refusing to bow to the gods is one thing. Her show failing to pay attention to her emotions, or those of her friends, well, that's the real kiss of death.