Some believe that, before the universe, there was nothing. They're wrong. There was darkness, and it is from this darkness that Thor: The Dark World descends upon us, in all its ignominious wretchedness. Hollywood, you can continue making films like this, blockbusters which preach only to a congregation preconditioned to consume such bespoke produce, and you can prove the pessimists right, those who believe that the end is nigh for the industry, and that darkness will snatch it, swallow it and shit it back out. Or you can respond to trends which suggest that audiences crave something a little different, a little more challenging, a little more original. As if to respond directly to the mass nerdgasm stimulated by The Avengers, Thor: The Dark World is tailored specifically for the comic book crowd, and from there on in it's autopilot all the way. One senses that the screenwriters believe that films like this actually need brutishly portentous dialogue, it's applied so liberally. And for such a visual-centric film, the outrageous lack of creativity in the design - of the set, of the special effects, of the creature makeup, of the costumes - could provoke outright incredulity. Director Alan Taylor gleams up this hollow, studio backlot-worthy spectacle in the hope that it might distract from the immense lack of intelligence or insight in the script, and its thorough betrayal of humanity and deity alike in depicting all living entities as crude devices for engendering mild, momentary emotional reactions in the viewer, which is an almost entirely fruitless exploit. Taylor's work here is a vivid affirmation of the inferiority of television drama in comparison to the cinema, and the custom of innovation upon which it is founded, and which this film disgracefully derides. That's the long answer. The short one? Thor: The Dark World is the naffest film you'll see in 5,000 years.