Captain America, Thor, and my cardiac well-being


Libby Gelman-Waxner, in her “Premiere” column, printed a letter from a reader who said: “I notice you only like movies if you think the star is attractive. That’s not what movies are all about.” Libby replied: “Oh yes they are.”


So I watched the trailer for the new “Captain America” movie. Oh my goodness. Chris Evans (the beefy Human Torch in the “Fantastic Four” movies) starts out weak and puny (CGI, naturally), but then Stanley Tucci (sporting a beard and a hilarious accent) puts him into a big metal sarcophagus, injects him with Grow Juice, and –


Well, the result is just breathtaking. One of my favorite moments in the trailer is when the woman scientist furtively touches his bare chest, just to see if it’s real.


I burst into tears and went into arrhythmia at the same time.


And then there’s “Thor.”


The title character is played by some blond monster named Chris Hemsworth. He’s more scruffy than handsome. But there’s a scene (see, Thor’s been tossed to Earth by the All-Father Odin, played by Anthony Hopkins, and he has to bunk with a nice human family for a while) in which he comes out of the bedroom wearing only pajama bottoms, and Natalie Portman scrutinizes him with frank admiration . . .


Oh my poor heart, I can’t take too much more of this.


But once again, Libby is absolutely right.


This is exactly what movies are all about.



About Loren Williams
Gay, partnered, living in Providence, working at a local university. Loves: books, movies, TV. Comments and recriminations can be sent to

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