There’s a recurring wave of unease that subsumes much of Robert Eggers’ “The North-man”. Every moment seems to exist on the verge of disruption, as if ephemerality is baked into the structure. And so, we gain excitement from watching chaos manifested. Ruptures and disruption are critical to what is at work here, so much so that the first image of the film is a volcanic eruption that envelopes the screen. Danger is imminent. And of course, it is. This is a miserable and punishing world. How wonderful, then, that for all the cruel misery at work “The Northman” feels propulsive and exciting even as we work our way, methodically, to inevitable areas of tragedy and despair. This world might be miserable, but the filmmaking on display is energising and exciting.
Eggers’ film, co-written with Icelandic poet Sjón, is based on the legend of Amleth (our hero) by Saxo Gramma-ticus, a tale of Norse mythology that is more readily remembered as the source for Shake-speare’s “Hamlet”. Although, thinking of “The Northman” as a Viking version of Hamlet misses out some of the specific weirdness that feels endemic to Eggers’ work as a filmmaker over his three-film oeuvre.
Whether implicit, or explicit, Shakespeare remains an influential figure in film over the last two centuries and Eggers variation on the very familiar tale of the embittered son avenging the name of his dead father is one that feels innately familiar. But nothing in Eggers’ approach to this story feels familiar or banal.
I spent a lot of “The Northman” remembering how dull I found so much of the approach to the narrative in Joel Coen’s “The Tragedy of Macbeth” earlier this year. Of course, Coen was working with a more straightforward adaptation of that particular play but the most telling attitude of Eggers’ take on the angry vengeance at the root of his film (a similar emotion that is essential for “Macbeth”) feels tactile and visceral in a way that resists any notions of austerity, remoteness or reticence. Eggers’ approach is confrontational. He demands our attention and then plays with our senses, bringing “The Northman” to climax after climax that challenges our perception of this world.
A brief prelude, where we meet the young Amleth and learn about the dynamics of this world, effectively establishes this this tactility. Jarin Blaschke’s camera moves through the shadowy castle in a way that makes even the most regal parts of this world look grimy and uncomfortable. So, we meet Nicole Kidman’s Queen Gudrún, who is imposing and fearsome as much as she is beautiful and beguiling. Her energy provides an intriguing dynamic with Ethan Hawke’s weary King Aurvandill, who offers a paternalistic countenance that feels warm but ambiguous enough for Amleth to spend the rest of the film wishing to avenge him. King Aurvandill’s murder is an early highpoint that confirms Eggers willingness to confront the magnetic violence at the heart of this world. The camera does not avert its gaze, but confronts us with unbridled brutality. Young Amleth’s flight from the scene is a wonderful sequence as the film moves from the past into the present in a mesmerising bit of camerawork.
When we meet Amleth as an adult, now played by Alexander Skarsgård, he has none of the softness of his youth. His brutality puts him in line with the rest of this angry, cruel world. And it’s here, with Amleth hell-bent on his decades-long plan of vengeance, that “The Northman” goes exactly where we expect it to – bloody sequence by bloody sequence. With the exception of a delicious late-film monologue that offers an unexpected twist in plot, the plot-points are familiar. Vengeance comes, and it destroys both the vengeful and the contrite. Eggers offers a dizzying and magnetic display of a world that is on the verge of destruction
“The Northman” is winningly engaging at every turn, and is best when it becomes an unabashed technical marvel. It’s definitely Eggers’ least actor-focused script, so within that it’s no surprise that the most effective turns are by actors from who we know have always been able to do the most with the least. Hawke’s paternal gaiety commands the first sections, Willem Dafoe’s manic energy lingers long after we see him last and – of course – Kidman .in a film overwhelmed by competing versions of masculinity, offers a sly and confident performance that’s punctuated by her eyes darting in the background in every scene – contemplating, if not always commenting on, the action around her. Each performer feels more interesting when opposite her. It is a role that in truth feels too brief but effectively teases the promise that is manifested in a late scene with Skarsgård that improbably ends up feeling like the highpoint of a film with so many eclectic fight-sequences. But, everyone is good, even if limited by the parameters of the film, which sees these characters less as individualised figures and more as part of a fabric of hate, vengeance and brutality that this Viking world is built on. In this way, it lacks the unpredictable looseness of “The Lighthouse” (Eggers’ best film) but offers a clarity of vision that retains the kind of technical specificity that is so key to his work so far.
What I find most compelling about “The Northman” is the way it recognises the cruel brutality of this world and the angry malfeasance of humanity but still feels exciting and exhilarating and that, for me, is the most significant aspect.
There is a consistent propulsive energy at work in “The Northman” that is its best asset. How strange that a film that is so full of the most miserable aspects of human nature feels so energetic. For all the death and blood and gore, “The Northman” offers the kind of visceral thrills that feel tapped into the full aesthetic parameters of what cinema can offer. It’s one of the highlights of 2022 thus far.
