The Failed Spinster

My other half, who Does pop culture, has been wittering on about the upcoming Thor film for, ooh, ages now. For the uninitiated, Thor is a comic book character based on the Norse God. He's a blond bodybuilder who wanders round in his pants carrying a hammer, a bit like a stoner trying to put together a flat pack bookcase, or a hard-up porn actor looking for work. I found this faintly risible, so had no interest in the film, until Other Half was looking at some preview pictures online, and I saw the actor whose name has figured prominently in these discussions.
And then it clicked.
The name of Chris Hemsworth was not one I knew from Hollywood. Rather, he did three years in a little town called Summer Bay, as Home and Away's Kim Hyde, son of sub-Fisher school principal Barry. (He was a shirtless tearaway who argued constantly with his over-strict dad.)
Suddenly my interest rocketed. This film is going to be great. I'm particularly looking forward to the scene where spoilt blonde Nicole Franklin, she with the A-level in flouncing, transmogrifies into Thor's wife, the goddess Sif. Or the one where Thor parks his goat-drawn chariot in the disabled space by the diner, causing Irene to eye her cooking sherry longingly before she goes for a moody walk on the beach in the hope of seeing Aden with his abs out. Or the scene where Alf Roberts calls Thor a flamin' great galah for leaving his hammer Mjolnir at the caravan park.
That would be a seriously great film.
It set me wondering what other soap characters of the past could get a new lease of life in the rash of hyperinflated-budgeted comic films Hollywood is currently spawning. And there are loads! Think about it...
Ex-EastEnder Amira Shah is a strong contender for Wonderwoman. Surely the hair-tossing Amira in her crippling heels would adore bullet-proof bracelets. And with the Lasso of Truth, she could have saved herself a lot of heartache by forcing the truth out of her sexually confused, tousle-haired husband months back, instead of accepting all his rubbish excuses because she was too busy doing her nails to think for herself. ("No, honestly, Amira, Christian's just giving me bodybuilding tips. Naked bodybuilding tips behind the Masala Masood bins," Never was denial so painfully unconvincing.)
And Fred Elliott? Poor lost Fred. I say, surely he could carve out a new career as intergalactic slaphead the Silver Surfer? I say? Or Kim Tate as Elektra, complete with the famous mirror in which she checked her lippy after ensuring it could no longer be misted by Frank's irksome habit of breathing. Kim, the original stilettoed assassin, saw to that. In fact, now The Bill has gone west, I'm seeing that comic book films could be the next soap graveyard. Bets are on now that Ashley Peacock ends up as the Punisher. Twelve to one and under starters' orders.