Quarantine is Making Me Feel Like Thor in Endgame

These days I feel a lot like Thor in Avengers: Endgame. By that I mean I don’t leave the house, I eat a ton of cheese, and I polish off a 12-pack of Yuengling on a weekly basis. The only free time I have — when not patching together an hour to frantically work or hearing my children scream “Dad” for the hundredth time — is spent streaming a never-ending loop of movies and shows.

I’ve been streaming Marvel movies lately. Not in chronological order because that’d be too productive and we all know it’s not the time for that. Endgame is my favorite by far. Even though “serious” filmmakers like Martin Scorsese say it’s not cinema, in my opinion it’s a masterpiece. The movie was released about a year ago and still holds the title of highest-grossing film worldwide. But Endgame gave us so much more, it introduced us to “Fat Thor.”

Thor’s character arc is the most interesting in the film, and not because he gained a bunch of weight. Thor’s portrayal of depression, although criticized for being handled in a joking way, was one of the truest I’ve ever seen. I know what you’re going to say. How could you be serious? But, hear me out. Life is absurd and random. Cruel even, yet beautiful. It’s a fact that comedy and tragedy are two sides of the same coin. Why do you think the best stand up comedians led such tragic lives? It’s because people who experience pain and suffering are more likely to be funny. Call it a defense mechanism.

I’m not sure if the average viewer picked up on Thor cracking like an egg across five movies, but it didn’t come out of nowhere. Rewatching the films now I see so many examples of foreshadowing. The Russo brothers were setting up Thor’s eventual downfall from the beginning. The audience was just in denial. We all watch superhero movies to escape reality. The heroes get challenged by the villains but they always come out victorious in the end. The formula is as comfortable to us as a warm blanket on a chilly night.

Thor is “the man,” the Adonis of the MCU. A buff warrior with long blonde locks, the God of Thunder, the Prince of Asgard, not some guy on the verge of mental collapse. But he loses so much along the way. His mother was killed by a Dark Elf. The woman he loved, Jane Foster, was possessed by the Aether (aka the Reality Stone). His brother betrayed him more times than he could count. His father died. His realm was destroyed by an evil sister he never knew existed. Half of his people were slaughtered. And he lost an eye. There’s only so much anyone can take.

There’s a great scene in Infinity War where Thor is in a deep conversation with Rocket Raccoon about everything he’s lost. You can hear Thor's voice, it’s cracking. If he doesn’t defeat Thanos he’s finished. And that’s exactly what happens. Traveling across the universe to forge the Stormbreaker wasn’t enough. All of his strengths and abilities weren’t enough. He faced Thanos and lost. Thor’s entire self-image was built around his “worthiness,” the quality which allowed only him to lift his enchanted hammer, Mjolnir. He no longer sees himself as worthy.

This is where the root of depression lies. We can all relate to these feelings, compliments of the pandemic we now face. It’s not that I want to compare my COVID-19 self-quarantine to the fictional tragedy of Thor’s life — okay, maybe just a little — but the underlying causes of hopelessness and self-loathing are the same regardless if you’re a king or a regular Joe Schmo. We’ve all lost control. Our health is at risk. Our jobs and livelihoods are on the line. The global economy may collapse at any time. And to add insult to injury, it’s easier finding the six Infinity Stones than a pack of toilet paper.

How are we reacting to this pandemic? I hear so many people describing the same things over the telephone or on social media. We’re all afraid, exhausted yet unable to sleep, having trouble concentrating, and fighting off bouts of sadness. As we try to cope, we’re all eating and drinking more. We can’t get a haircut and there’s no point in shaving every day when a shower isn’t even on the schedule. Fast forward six months and each of us will be “Fat Thor.”

I’m stuck at home with my wife and two small children. I don’t feel worthy enough to do anything. My remote writing work is piling up, but I’m not motivated to do it. My children are also struggling through this, to me they’re just being unruly. I’m impatient and irritable. Cleaning the house feels like Sisyphus pushing a rock up a hill. How much longer can we all do this? What’s the point?

Most days all I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. I’m drinking too much coffee during the day to stay afloat and reversing the effects of caffeine at night with a few beers. It’s an unsustainable cycle, I know, but I can’t stop. This brings me back to Thor in Endgame. He experienced everything I just described above. The film’s portrayal of depression was spot on. Now the big question: what’s going to happen next? None of us have a chance to travel back in time and fix any mistakes.

One of my favorite scenes in Endgame is when Thor travels back to Asgard. It’s significant for his character development because he gets to speak to his mother one last time. More importantly, he finally claims his worthiness back. Wearing pajama pants and a bathrobe, he stretches out his hand for the Mjolnir of the past, waiting anxiously with his eyes shut to see if it’ll return. And it does! He’s filled with tears of joy when the hammer crashes back into his hand just like old times. I think that’s what we all need right now, some jolt to help us remember life before COVID-19. I pray it happens sooner than later.