On ‘Twilight of the Gods’ and its insult to pacing

I’m a sucker for a great revenge plot. Revenge can be a captivating character study, revealing just how far a character would go to get even. Watching characters lose themselves in their quest for vengeance is an intense, emotional experience for viewers. That is when viewers care about the characters and their plight, or at least understand what’s happening.

When I started “Twilight of the Gods,” I had high hopes for the series. A Norse mythology retelling with Thor (Pilou Asbæk, “Game of Thrones”) as the villain sounded like an interesting premise. The story follows Sigrid (Sylvia Hoeks, “Blade Runner 2049”), a half-giant warrior whose family was massacred by Thor on her wedding day. To avenge her family, Sigrid vows to kill Thor, subsequently allying herself with Loki (Paterson Joseph, “Wonka”).

From the get-go, “Twilight of the Gods” stuffs its runtime with as much action as possible. In the first episode, viewers are introduced to protagonist Sigrid and her fiancé Leif (Stuart Martin, “Army of Thieves”), who are planning their wedding. The pair travels to Jötunheim, Sigrid’s homeland so her clan can be present at the ceremony. However, the ceremony takes a dark turn when Thor arrives, demanding the giants hand over Loki. A fight ensues and Thor slaughters the entire clan besides Sigrid and Leif. Loki, who was present at the wedding in the form of a lizard, then appears to Sigrid and offers to help her kill Thor. 

All of those things occur within the first 30-minute episode, with little time to breathe between scenes. The show establishes the necessary context — who Sigrid is and what her motivation is — but it neglects to include any substantial reasons to make viewers care about her. Other facets of her character are brushed over in favor of additional fight sequences, leaving her without a real personality. Viewers learn about Sigrid as a warrior but never as a person. When the show does discuss these facets, like Sigrid’s feelings of isolation as a half-giant in a giant clan, the show either speedruns a resolution or drops the issue altogether. 

The pacing only continues to worsen throughout the series. Episode two is a particularly horrific offender, cramming five major character introductions into 27 minutes. Loki allows Sigrid and Leif to choose five warriors to aid their fight against Thor. Why they can only choose five is never explained; it’s an arbitrary box for the cast to fit into. Still, limiting the cast is a good way to raise the stakes and give each character ample chance for development. 

Despite its overabundance of story threads, the series still feels empty. I sat in front of my screen, weary-eyed, begging for scraps of character development that never came. Of the five warriors recruited for the journey, each is allotted a maximum of one personality trait and one scene to describe their backstory. Hervor (Birgitte Hjort Sørensen, “Pitch Perfect 2”) is an impulsive warrior whose three sons died in battle, Andvari (Kristofer Hivju, “Game of Thrones”) is a stubborn blacksmith who wants revenge on Loki for turning his close friend into a dragon and so on. These backstories are conceptually compelling, but their execution falls miles short of their potential. It doesn’t help that conversation between characters is minimized, preventing an exploration of relationship dynamics beyond a sexual context.

Sex scenes can be a useful tool for characterization, depicting characters in their most intimate and vulnerable moments. However, “Twilight of the Gods” uses sex scenes as a substitute for character development. Rather than discussing the relationship dynamics within the main cast, sex scenes are shown as the culmination of some off-screen relationships viewers never get to see. These relationships feel unsatisfying because viewers don’t know the characters individually. You could slap two pieces of cardboard together for three minutes straight and achieve the same effect. If half of the screen time “Twilight of the Gods” devoted to sex was instead devoted to casual banter between the cast, the quality of this show would skyrocket. Even better, I wouldn’t have to hear the words “lust limb” ever again.  

“Twilight of the Gods” suffers from pacing issues far too common in shows produced by major streaming services. With only eight, 30-minute episodes, the series is forced to sacrifice quality for quantity of content. However, the overemphasis of sex scenes compared to other forms of character development suggests larger issues than lack of time. Boiling down character dynamics to who’s fucking is not an adequate substitute for development, it simply neglects the exploration of other platonic and familial relationships. Thus, the emotional beats don’t hit, and viewers are left underwhelmed. “Twilight of the Gods” serves as a valuable warning to other series: There is no payoff without proper buildup. 

Daily Arts Writer Morgan Sieradski can be reached at kmsier@umich.edu.

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