Mortal

Mortal plods along for most of its running time with the occasional helicopter chase scene and plenty of CGI fulminology: But ultimately Ovredal's not-so-deep-dive into Norwegian mythos is a too-obvious let down.

Yet another dreary entry in the overly serious superhero genre, where brooding and brown cinematography add a false veneer of importance to the proceedings.

Øvredal's lopsided sense of humor has deserted him entirely: The sillier the story gets, the more glumly and earnestly the film trudges through it.

The title "Mortal" wouldn't seem to require much explanation, but this Norway-set fantasy film leads with a handy definition ("mortal [mawr-tl] n. A human being"). Its estimation of viewers' intelligence doesn't improve from there.

Wolff, given virtually nothing to work with, never figures out what to do with Eric, resorting to an all-purpose glower that makes him look like a very constipated Shia LaBoeuf.

The modest visual effects, which mostly consist of distant lighting bolts and gathering storm clouds, can do little to elevate this potty-training-for-the-patriarchy narrative.

...slow-moving and palpably padded-out...

Hits beats too familiar and too bland, culminating in something of a forgettable snooze fest.

Mortal has enough power to charge an audience's superhero needs.

Mortal is a bit of a mixed bag, but an engaging premise, strong performances and a blistering third act make it well worth a watch. With any luck, a sequel will allow this decidedly darker Thunder God to reach his full potential.