A brief meta exchange between characters praising the almighty sequel in a late scene signals the type of wry self-awareness returning director Roar Uthaug (The Wave, Cold Prey) and writer Espen Aukan employ in Troll 2. Their follow-up to the 2022 Netflix Kaiju film mostly leaves its MonsterVerse formula behind in favor of an Indiana Jones-style romp across Norway, with an expanded mythology and double the trolls.
The core crux of Troll 2’s jötunn problem this round is set up in an opening sequence that also doubles as a reintroduction to protagonist Nora (Ine Marie Wilmann), whose childhood attachment to myths and magic was renewed by the previous film’s events that, in turn, left her a bit of a pariah. Part of that is self-imposed, as Nora still harbors a lot of guilt over her mistakes. Old pal Andreas Isaksen (Kim Falck) brings her back into the fold when a new troll is uncovered, one that’s hellbent on destroying humanity once awakened.
Once again, Uthaug whisks viewers on a brisk journey that also doubles as an effective tourism ad that showcases Norway’s stunning terrain as Nora, Andreas, returning flirt Major Kristoffer Holm (Mads Sjøgård Pettersen), and newcomer Marion (Sara Khorami) traverse the countryside tracking the newly awakened beast while searching for answers on how to stop it. The majestic set pieces lend easy scale, of course, but also showcase Uthaug’s sense of humor; a bumping dance floor at a ski resort becomes fodder for a rampaging behemoth to the comical confusion of the guests, for example.
Troll 2. (L to R) Ine Marie Wilmann as Nora Tidemann, Ester J. Tiller as Anne Krigsvoll, Mads Sjøgård Pettersen as Kaptein Kristoffer, Sara Khorami as Marion Rhadani and Kim Falck as Andreas Isaksen in Troll 2. Cr. Courtesy of Netflix © 2024
There’s enough amiable history between the characters to keep the momentum going, even when characterization remains lean to nonexistent. As the newcomer, Khorami surprises with Marion’s ascension from grating foil to plucky believer, which is winsome, even if understated.
Wilmann’s Nora fares the strongest as the troll whisperer with unwavering empathy toward the jötunn, but the character continues to be solely defined by her connection with folkloric creatures made real. It’s easier to overlook some of the more superficially rendered aspects of the plot and its characters with Wilmann’s emotive performance, but less so with manufactured moments like a late sacrifice so clumsily handled that it violently disrupts a suspension of disbelief. It’s the type of baffling choice that highlights Troll 2’s proclivity for switching up personality traits and details on a whim for plot contrivance’s sake.
Troll 2. Cr. Courtesy of Netflix © 2024
Like its predecessor, Troll 2’s magic remains within its mythic creatures. The endless empathy evoked by and for the jötunn once again injects a genuine sense of wonder and magic, but it’s continuously undermined by spectacle and rote human characters. Uthaug and Aukan tease poignant themes of religion as a destructive force, technology versus nature, and even the invaluable life lessons imparted by fairy tales, but they take a backseat to the Spielbergian adventure that wears its cinematic influences on its sleeves.
Troll 2 is at its best when it sits with its myths and ponders their relation to our tech-ridden present. But this sequel tends to opt for unoriginal Kaiju spectacle, with clashing beasts and big action scenes. It makes for an entertaining enough time, just one that isn’t as engaging as the legend at the center of the mayhem.
Of course, a mid-credit scene sets up a third movie, giving Uthaug another chance to transform enchanting Norse mythology into a Blockbuster-like spectacle. Here’s to hoping that, should this series continue, it finally leaves behind its influences and embraces its Scandinavian specificity.
Netflix debuts Troll 2 on December 1, 2025.
