I’ll start by saying that I won’t be including any story-related spoilers. If you want the film spoiled, just watch it. It does a perfect job of ruining itself without me telling you that Darth Vader was Starlord’s father, or that Drax was Kaser Söze all along. However, I’ll also state that this isn’t really a review, but a reflection on what this movie means in the world of film making, and as such, it may be a little conceptual if you haven’t already seen it (if you do want a review though, how about zero out of literally pick any number).

The following is a genuine recounting of a part of the Norse Mythology. There exists a poem called Lokasenna in which Loki (you know, the super sexy Tom Hiddleston from the Marvel franchise one) is hanging out and having a few drinks with some of the Æsir (gods), but is kicked out after inexplicably murdering a waiter that they were all being really nice to. After a little time away, presumably stewing in anger, Loki returned to throw down the gauntlet and show the gods some serious smack talk. All I can say is god damn, this would have livened up The Avengers movie.

What follows is a genuine account of the resulting quarrel.

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Okay, this has been annoying me for a while now, so I need to get it out.

In the 2010 film ‘The Losers‘, there is a tech-nerd soldier character, portrayed by everyone’s favourite ‘guy who does loads of comic book movies‘, Chris Evans. About half way into the movie, after we’ve already established Mr Evans’ character’s typical arrogant, cocky persona, there’s a scene in which he is having to hurriedly change his disguise whilst in an elevator. As is textbook for a pseudo-comedic Hollywood film, the doors inevitably open the second he removes his trousers and, for some reason, his underwear (for real though, why the underwear?). As Mr Evans looks up in shock, standing before him are four rather attractive and provocatively dressed young ladies, presumably who work in the building he’s unsuccessfully trying to covertly infiltrate. A brief pause ensues as everyone looks at one another: the genitally exposed Chris Evans, and the curious hoards of apparent bimbos; and then, just as we expect the screaming to begin, something rather strange happens.

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