It's a story about the rejection of generational trauma, and an effort to overcome toxic masculinity.
Forgive the pedantry, but you're talking about God of War: Ragnarok rather than God of War.
That said, I disagree that this is political (though the term seems to have become plastic enough to mean virtually anything at this point, so perhaps that's moot). For one thing, it's not about "toxic masculinity" at all, insofar that the game contains neither a specific message nor any underlying implications that the themes you've identified have anything to do with being a man. Quite the contrary, by showcasing that Freya is heading down the same path as Kratos (until Atreus helps her stop), the game makes it expressly clear that the toxicity in question is
not masculine, but rather is a universal message about being so lost in your own pain that you take it out on the entire world.
It's also a story about going to great lengths to try to avert what seems like an inevitable war, against a foe who insists on pursuing that war, and trying to change one's own nature so that you don't fall into a predictable tragedy.
Again, I'm not sure where the political slant is there. Leaving aside that they ultimately fail to avert the war in question (since, spoiler alert, Ragnarok happens), the issue of avoiding tragedy by changing yourself is operatic in nature (it's no small irony that Kratos, up until that point, seems like a character in a Greek tragedy), but it also ultimately validates the idea that you can't necessarily avert a conflict if the other party is intent on causing harm. Kratos has already realized that he needs to change his nature when he confronts Heimdall, but is ultimately given no choice but to slay him.
Now, all of that is allegorical, but if I told you I was going to make a video game about a man rejecting toxic masculinity and trying to avoid war by learning forgiveness, trust, and love, somebody would call me a woke hippie snowflake, probably.
Sure, but that'd be because they could point out that an identification of a theme doesn't necessarily indicate what's there. It's like a Rorschach test, where you can make a believable allegory for almost anything by identifying points of perceived commonality; that doesn't mean those points hold water beyond, as you noted, allegorical similarity.
This guy breaks it down quite well, to my mind (albeit for movies instead of games):
The main villain, Odin, is sort of the negative parts of capitalism personified -- he pursues 'knowledge' that is undefined, with no specific goal and no mention of how he might use that 'knowledge' to help anyone but himself, which I read as a stand-in for the pointless pursuit of bigger piles of cash rather than using money as a way to pursue improvements in the world. He also uses overwhelming military force (aka, Thor) to force the other realms to submit to him, and in some places that leads to the crushing of local cultures and environment-destroying exploitation of natural resources that leave the residents dependent on a distorted supply chain which invariably siphons prosperity to Asgard and the Aesir.
And in this case, I disagree. While I can certainly see interpreting Odin's actions in that manner (though the implication, as I read it, was that he had a particular goal in that being able to look into the rift without harm would let him avoid prophecy and change his fate, as he believed that it
was scripted and virtually unalterable, at least without extraordinary actions). His selfishness, antagonism toward others, and lack of genuine empathy could be taken as a representation of virtually
any amoral system, be it military, economic, social, etc. in nature. To ascribe that as being indicative of any specific doctrine, and therefore political, is an opinion rather than a fact.
You seek forgiveness from a woman you've wronged, and she ends up your most powerful ally. Like, you actively risk your life to try to help her and to make amends. You grow as a person in the course of doing so.
There's an asterisk to the idea that Kratos wronged Freya in his killing Baldur. He says that the mistake he made was taking the decision of how to deal with him away from her, but quite frankly that struck me as odd, since at the end of the previous game Baldur made it clear that he was intent on murdering Freya, which was wrong even if she herself consented to being killed by him. To that extent, I'm unclear on what the practical impact of Kratos "letting her decide" would have looked like (and it avoids the issue that she was wrong to force invincibility on Baldur against his will in the first place, as it made him miserable to the point of madness).
And the game repeatedly argues that taking an action simply because it will hurt someone you see as an enemy is unjustified and will end up coming back to hurt you or those you care about.
I think it's a lot more nuanced than that, to be honest. It argues that there needs to be greater justification for taking up arms against someone than simply identifying them as working towards interests you don't hold, but still identifies that bad people who do bad things need to be stopped. It doesn't suggest that war is wrong, just that the reasons for engaging in it need to be held to a higher standard. The game still ends with the final enemy being killed; it's just portrayed as more justified than revenge (Sindri notwithstanding).
