Zack Snyder, regardless of what one may think of his storytelling abilities, undeniably excels at creating visually striking scenes, and this talent is evident in his latest project, Netflix’s Twilight of the Gods.
'Twilight of the Gods' Courtesy of Netflix |
Produced by Stone Quarry Animation, the series presents Norse mythology in vivid colors and sleek, expressive designs that morph into colossal monsters, dominating scenic landscapes or massive battlefields filled with lightning flashes, bursts of blood, and slow-motion aerial combat.
Visually, it’s a stunning work of art. However, when it comes to emotional depth, it falls short. The epic features grand characters that seem intriguing, but lacks the depth required to truly understand them.
This results in a hollow narrative, even as the protagonists and antagonists engage in the monumental task of reshaping the universe.
At the heart of the story, co-created by Snyder, Jay Oliva, and Eric Carrasco, is Sigrid (voiced by Sylvia Hoeks), a fierce warrior who captured the heart of King Leif (Stuart Martin) by saving his life in battle.
But when Thor (Pilou Asbaek), the storm god, makes an unexpected and unwelcome appearance, what was meant to be a peaceful wedding turns into a horrific massacre. Sigrid survives, but with an insatiable thirst for revenge. Motivated by her late clan’s motto, “We fear no gods!” she embarks on a mission to kill Thor himself.
The protagonists of Twilight of the Gods are action-driven, and at only eight episodes, each less than 30 minutes, the story moves at a breakneck pace. As soon as Sigrid expresses her desire to return to her homeland, she and Leif are on their way.
And as soon as she realizes she needs god-killing weapons, she obtains them from the dwarf smith Andvari (Kristofer Hivju). Early in the second episode, she declares her intent to recruit five special followers for her seemingly suicidal quest, but it takes her only 15 minutes to gather them all.
The show rapidly moves from one striking scene to the next. Throughout the season, Sigrid travels to the underworld and back, navigates a river filled with the spirits of unjustly drowned women, and storms the grand golden halls of giants and gods. Her journey features encounters with armies of the undead, majestic winged Valkyries, and towering beasts as large as mountains.
Nearly every episode climaxes with a brutal, magic-infused battle, and like Netflix’s Blue-Eye Samurai, Twilight of the Gods doesn’t shy away from violence. Warriors are sliced in half, skulls are crushed, and bodies are torn apart like piñatas.
The characters are also unapologetically open about their sexual desires, but the series’ sexual content often feels awkward rather than natural. For example, a character divulging his backstory during a threesome seems more like an attempt to highlight the show’s maturity than a genuine reflection of its sensuality.
Perhaps this highlights the show’s uncertainty in holding the audience’s attention without relying on explicit content. Ironically, Twilight of the Gods is most engaging when it pauses long enough for the characters to reflect. A subplot where Leif and Loki relive their most painful memories adds layers of tragedy to Loki, as he bitterly notes that he exists only to be blamed.
Leif’s devoted yet clear-sighted love for Sigrid becomes a crucial indicator of the toll the mission takes on her. Meanwhile, an unexpected romance between the witch Seid-Kona (Jamie Clayton) and Leif’s charming slave Egill (Rahul Kohli) offers a rare moment of tenderness in a story otherwise dominated by rage and sorrow.
Unfortunately, these more intimate threads aren’t given enough time to fully develop. The show often resorts to telling rather than showing the characters’ emotions. Thor’s peculiar romance with the goddess Sandraudiga (Jessica Henwick) is explained through dialogue before we even have a chance to wonder about it ourselves.
The emotional and psychological depth of these characters is treated as an afterthought to their epic battles, rather than the primary reason we should care about them.
Despite the constant action, Twilight of the Gods fails to reach any truly compelling narrative destinations. The season finale centers on the war the characters have been preparing for, and the series spares no expense.
The battle scenes are a chaotic barrage of sound and fury, edited too quickly for the human brain (or at least mine) to process. Some of the most striking visuals come from Odin’s (John Noble) visions of the distant future, featuring a god’s appearance that made me mutter, “What the heck?” alone in my living room.
However, after a while, I realized I had stopped fully following the plot, mainly because I no longer cared enough to try. Sigrid’s refusal to bow to the gods is one thing, but the show’s failure to address the emotional core of its characters — now that’s the real dealbreaker.