Self-Worth, Grieving Like a 7, and Why Endgame Got Thor Right (Major Spoilers for Avengers 3 & 4)

/ Chris

If you ever intend to watch Avengers: Infinity War or Avengers: Endgame and haven’t yet, stop now. You’re about to walk into a minefield of spoilers for both films. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Also, even if you’re not into superheroes, push through the nerdy weeds: I think you’ll still find it meaningful.

First, let me gush for a moment: Endgame is an absolutely beautiful film, not perfect (there’s a few things that don’t work), but it’s beautiful, nonetheless. It’s packed with incredible acting (RDJ gives his best MCU performance, in my opinion), great writing, just the right amount of fan-service, and well-delivered themes. It made me laugh, cry, and even jump out of my seat from excitement.

Endgame is about grief and ending. Particularly, grieving death, loss, and failure. It’s the final chapter of the twenty-two-film story Marvel has been telling since the original Iron Man in 2008 and it carries it to a close masterfully.

Endgame is just that: the “The End,” the closing script, the goodbye. And I couldn’t have asked for a better one.

I could go on but you should just watch the movie for yourself. 

The thing that has most stuck with me since watching it–and, what kept coming to mind when I thought about reviewing this movie, was Thor’s story arc. 

(Spoiler alert!) 

Yes, Fat Thor.

Let me explain… 

(Herein lie the spoilers.)

A Nerdy Recap

The inclusion of “Fat Thor” in Avengers: Endgame has been one of the most controversial aspects of the ridiculously successful Marvel installment (which has grossed over $2.7 billion worldwide). I didn’t like Fat Thor at first, either. It seemed to undermine where I thought they were going with the character over the last several films–not to mention it was a hard sight to see the “God of Thunder” wearing a fat suit. 

The biggest criticism I’ve seen for Thor was that his grief and depression was played off for laughs. And, I agree, there are a few times where it got annoying or the sharp juxtaposition of his grief set against his humor felt out of place.

But the already grief-heavy Endgame needed his comic relief and I actually think they took him exactly where he needed to go.

(Bear with me, things are gonna get really nerdy.) 

Endgame picks up just after the events of Infinity War when “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes” lost to the mad titan Thanos who obtained each of the infinity stones, snapped his fingers, and killed half of all living things in order to conserve the universe’s depleting resources. That’s where Infinity War ends.

Thanos’s terribly flawed logic aside, it was an incredible cinematic moment. The villain had won and our beloved heroes–who we had watched win time after time over the past decade–had lost.

And no one had blundered more than Thor Odinson, the invincible “god of Thunder.” 

Up to this point, Thor had lost everything. Not only had he lost his parents and his home, but Thanos himself had brutally killed half of Thor’s people, including Thor’s mischievous brother, Loki.

So when Thor finally faces Thanos, instead of taking him out and saving the universe, Thor stabs Thanos and savors the moment up close to see the pain in his eyes.

But Thor’s slow revenge gave Thanos the opportunity to snap his fingers and kill half of the universe.

Thor had failed. 

The positive and lovable Thor who had only ever known endless wealth, power, and success had failed miserably.

The question ringing over Thor’s character for the entire film is: “Having failed, am I enough? Am I still worthy?”

The 7ness of Thor

I remember reading an article just before Endgame released which detailed each of the Avengers’ Enneagram types. According to the article, Thor was a Type 7: The Enthusiast, which is my type. It made sense.

So when the “mighty” Thor shows up, after the five year jump in Endgame, depressed and sporting a mighty belly built of cheez whiz and beer, it repulsed me, but it made complete sense.

There he was: sealing himself off from the world to avoid facing his failure, playing video games with his friends, and drowning his pain with beer and cheese dip.

It’s exactly how a Type 7 would respond to grief of that magnitude. It hit the nail so painfully on the head that I wonder if the writers actually took the Enneagram types into consideration when developing their characters. I doubt it, but maybe?

Living In the Moment and Feeling the Feelings

One of the hardest things for me to do is live in the moment and let myself experience my feelings. That sounds goofy but it’s true. 

It’s hard, even, to bask in “good” feelings like joy, happiness, and peace. Pleasure can be immediately undermined by the disappointment that it won’t last. “It’s not enough” is the refrain of my life. And in that thirst and search for more, pain can feel suffocating. 

I want more joy, more fun, more peace, more happiness, more parties. So when life hands me pain, I don’t know what to do. Anxiety starts to rise up and the party starts to shut down.

“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This isn’t how it’s supposed to go! We’re supposed to be having fun here. Ignore all the wet blankets. Turn up the music!”

But what do you do when the wet blanket is the person you see in the mirror every morning? 

What do you do when you lie awake at night and your wet-blanket-thoughts start shouting and remind you of your failure. How you aren’t enough and that everlasting thirst probably won’t ever be quenched. Not really–because you’re not worthy.

What do you do when, if you’re Thor, simply being with other humans reminds you that your blunder caused the death of half the universe?

You shut it out. You hole up in a tiny shack in Norway with your buddies. The God of Thunder-ing failure hides in a cave and drinks beer and eats cheese dip.

Just Like Everyone Else

I cry at three moments during Endgame. Actually, I basically cry through the entire film because it’s a very emotional ride, but there are three moments in particular that I find moving.

I cry at the beginning because the loss from Infinity War is still so sharp. I cry at the end because the resolve is so heartbreaking and beautiful.

And I cry at the moment Thor, while traveling through time to 2013, reunites with his mom (who is deceased during the time Endgame takes place). Frigga–Thor’s mother–realizes he’s from the future and they end up talking because he “really needs to talk.” 

He tells her everything: Thanos, the snap, and his failure.

THOR : … I was too late. I was just standing there. Some idiot with an axe.

FRIGGA (2013) : You’re no idiot. You’re here aren’t you? Seeking counsel from the wisest person in Asgard.

THOR : I guess, yeah.

FRIGGA (2013) : Idiot? No. A failure? Absolutely.

THOR : That’s a little bit harsh.

FRIGGA (2013) : You do know what that makes you? Just like everyone else.

THOR : I’m not supposed to be like everyone else, am I?

FRIGGA (2013): Everyone fails at who they are supposed to be, Thor. The measure of a person, of a hero, is how well they succeed at being who they are.

I’m not entirely sure what she means, but the whole scene makes me cry anyways.

Thor then prepares to go back to his present time, but before he leaves 2013, he tries summoning his old hammer, Mjolnir, which only goes to whoever is “worthy” of wielding it.

And it comes. Fat, failed, depressed Thor is absolutely shocked and gasps “I’m still worthy.”

The Thirst Quencher

I really like that they never put Thor back “how he belongs.” It’s uncomfortable to see him disheveled and out of shape, but the whole point of his Endgame story arc was that being a hero isn’t about being perfect.

The humanism (or Asgardian-ism, in Thor’s case) of “being who you are” rings a bit empty, but the point still stands: Being “somebody,” always getting it right, “measuring up” to whatever standards culture puts on us doesn’t determine our worthiness.
And here’s where Endgame’s answer to Thor’s question falls short.

The question Thor was asking–and that I’m asking–and that really all of humanity is asking is “Am I enough? Am I worthy?”

The answer we’re given in Endgame (as beautiful as the story is) feels like a shallow “Yeah, er’y ones worthy.”

But the real answer, the one the writers’ sub-consciences were scratching at is the resounding answer Jesus gives on the cross: “It never was about your worthiness.”

Am I enough?

No, not really. Not on my own. But that’s not what it’s about. That’s not the question that needs to be asked. The question I should be asking is “Is Jesus enough?”

He’s more than enough. He can quench that endless thirst I have. He’s the spring that never runs dry. I don’t have to worry that “it’s going to end.” He won’t–he can’t end.

And I–and Thor–and all of us–can rest in that.

So do I love that Thor had a negative spiral into depression? No. But I do think his response to grief and failure was realistic and right in line with his personality. Do I wish they would have taken his pain a little more seriously at times? Yeah, maybe. But then they would have needed to bring in some other characters for comic relief or the whole film would have been even heavier than it already is.

Is it a perfect film? No. But I don’t know anyone else could have done it better.

When the credits rolled, I felt satisfied. I didn’t leave depressed but I didn’t leave feeling like it came up short. Endgame was everything I hoped it would be. I was even glad there weren’t any credit scene. 

The story is done and now it is time for Marvel to tell a new one. The characters whose story arcs are completed were given a strong finish. They didn’t leave anything on the table or pull any punches–and I like that.

Anyways. These are some of my thoughts. I’d love to hear what you think. 

What are your thoughts about the movie? Do you agree that Endgame took Thor in the right direction? Or were you disappointed by that? Drop a comment below and let me know!

Most of these thoughts are my own, but there are a definitely a couple of the resources that helped shape how I expressed and worded my thoughts: