Spoilers ahead.

Much, I believe, has already been said about Robert Eggers’ film The Northman (2022); for that reason, I will try to keep my review, this informal critique of it, very brief, as brief as I can.

Well, my friends, dear audience, I’ve got to say it: alas, I’m disappointed by this film. I’m sure that won’t come as a shock to those who are familiar with me, my tastes, my previous reviews, and my past writings. Truly can it be said le style, c'est l'homme.

If you’re like me, and you desire super awesome grim-dark, delightfully macabre tales, and really thrilling fantasy-adventure, then you’ll find utterly top-quality storytelling, incredibly strong stories, in the mighty works of DMR Books, Cirsova, The Bizarchives, and such. The mainstream isn’t going to do it. Big films and big publications these days just don’t have the strength.

I’ll tell you this, I believe this movie has a lot that female audiences can love too. From what I’ve heard, it seems like many men have enjoyed watching The Northman, and that makes me happy. It makes me glad to see the male audience having fun with it and being so receptive to it. That’s just my limited perspective on the current situation.

When was the last time audiences really had a big movie they could point to and say, “That’s so macho I love it”? When was the last time the male audience had an artistic film sincerely speak to them, speak alongside them? Rare times these nights. Everything mainstream is hyper–female-centric these days.

It’s difficult to find a movie that can bring life to an earnest machismo with an interesting grim-dark aesthetic (which I’m all about). McTiernan’s Predator (1987) is a good example of a movie that has both. I don’t see anything earnest about The Northman. Despite its longing for savagery, it is ultimately frustrated, self-restricted, nervous, rueful, and inhibited. It doesn’t go the distance.

I can’t stomach the tawdry, barren, defeatist look of visual media like Game of Thrones (HBO). I mean, even old works of German expressionism had seemingly tried to aesthetically convey something higher beyond the melancholy and derision.

Whilst I was amused by The Northman, and I noticed its wonderful manly aspects, and there are dramatic elements of masculine beauty, this film was disheartening. It is not the grim-dark adrenaline rush I was hoping for. Nor was it the lush period piece I would have liked.

The film is neither a raven, nor a peacock, nor swan (certainly no dove); it is a cuckoo.

I’m not even saying it is a bad movie. I still believe that The Northman is a fine-enough work of art, and it should be considered more of a film than a movie, mainly because of the stimulating performances and superior acting skills displayed throughout.

However, if you want art that is fun and dark and beautiful, you’re better off with Beowulf (the epic), William Shakespeare’s Hamlet, and John Milius’ Conan the Barbarian (1982) and Rome (the TV series).

Let me tell you what I enjoyed about The Northman. Generally speaking, I would have to say that the first third, or even the first half maybe, is the best. The final duel, when Amleth fights Fjölnir, is also fairly solid. The father–son bond and familial ritual was fascinating.

More positives: the fight with the Mound Dweller; the knattleikr game; the night-dance frolic scene; the gruesome moments (e.g., the corpse sculpture), the gory moments, and the macabre spectacles; the berserker dance; the He-witch necromancy scene; the moments with Heimir; and the Valkyrie scene.

Something that is very interesting to me about this film is how vulgar, gaslighting, and wicked Queen Gudrún is. A true monster. She, like a demon, is slanderous and mocking. If she, a mother, is so evil towards her son, could Olga also be harboring secret selfish schemes of malice for her own children? On the other hand: in those savage, brutal Viking times, are these two women merely different kinds of survivors?

After all, this is a movie of metamorphosis, where humans are closer to beasts. Animals that want to be human. Perhaps there was no morality, only the grayness of fog sweeping up within the Dark Ages, during a time hundreds of years after the gorgeousness of the Roman Empire had fallen betrayed. Lest we forget: the film’s events occur within that abyss of animality and barbarism which arose forth the aftermath of that tragic, heartbreaking pillage of western Rome.

For The Northman, wherein does the cycle of violence actually begin and end?

The evil of its male characters is an inferno, a volcano, but its feminine evils work in the shadows endless.

Who turns the wheels of hate? Who spun the vile webs of fate? Norns.

A cruel mother and treacherous wife who manipulates all. A scheming seeress who makes certain vengeance is alive. A cunning witch who helps revenge take sail. Three females.

A jealous, greedy betrayer. A father calling for blood. A loyal son driven by revenge. Three males.

In this film, women and men push each other, enslave each other, working toward their own misery, in a machine of tragedy.

All of this makes for very Gothic storytelling: family trauma, family secrets, family drama, family misfortune, taboos, transgressions, incest, undead, vampires, werewolves, curses, and doom.

The Northman is not a beautiful-looking film. It is too grey, drab, pale, bleak, and gloomy. Too realism-based. Many of the scenes are too shadowy. Hard to see anything. It is not a very fun movie to experience visually.

I do like the grim-dark mood of the film. I like its ferocity. The thing is, the grim-dark excellence was drained by the meditating nothingness and nihilistic imagery (a bane for us aesthetes). Too many moments of the film are boring to look at. Where were beauty and charisma?

Yes, the technical and mechanical sophistication is there, but I need something else. I’m not crazy interested in the technology of cinema. Sound is more important, but most of the music and soundscapes in the film were tedious. Most of the costumes were mundane or not that appealing. Moreover, there wasn’t even enough action, and the eroticism and the romance were not rich.

There is a defeatist, negative quality on everything, a tired coldness, which makes the characters feel, au fond, downcast and weary. Why do all these brawny warriors seem so unsure and haggard? This primarily applies to the male characters, but it’s almost like they’re all feigning stoicism poorly. The major characters are more ice than fire, ice that is cracking and melting.

Although that predominating air of frazzled coolness, this weathering hardness, this fatalistic lethargy, has artistic merit, since it unites the characters symbolically to the mercurial forces of the volcano and the cold environments, it makes the characters look choleric yet inadequate and perfidious; furthermore, that’s part of why I say so many scenes and characters appear tired, ashen.

When will the curse of realism finally leave the artistic spheres?

The strongest, consistent performances came through young Amleth, Queen Gudrún, the berserkers, Heimir, and He-witch.

This film needed Nicolas Cage. What movie doesn’t?

The final fight was indeed pretty excellent. What we saw was an honorable contest. For the Vikings, what could be better than death in combat? With that fight scene, the audience should be inspired with the fiercest emotions, but I felt no truly inspirational energy about it.

It is subtle, but the final moments of the film carry a sensation of pessimism. With the glory, there is also a hollowness and an emptiness in the outcome. The protagonist saves his remaining, living family; yet, the movie does not make that victory come to life, and everything about it is marked by an essence that is low, unconvincing, and withdrawn. Instead, hopefulness is cast on the “Maiden-King” daughter figure.

The last moments of the film, a film which should have been about manly passion and the masculine experience, lifts up a feminist ideal through a nigh-messianic promise of a “Maiden King” who will replace Prince Amleth, who is now in Valhöll. It is a gender-subverting story component, oh so overdone and à la mode today, but it doesn’t fit soundly within a sanguine revenge story of male berserkers and masculine identity. It could work better in something like Robert Eggers’ horror film The Witch (2015), which is a good example of a compelling movie concentrating on female relationships and feminine identity. The Northman lacks focus, as if it were two movies rammed into one. The “Maiden-King” concept could be interesting if done properly and on its own. Similarly, the Olga character was a distraction and would do better in her own story, which I think could be fun and is something many audiences would appreciate.

The Northman’s fantasy touches and gore bits were enjoyable, but deficient. Additionally, the low-energy romance was too scrawny to fit; it was awkwardly placed in. The eroticism and carnage needed to be bolder and stronger. What risks were taken? This film could have been so much more.

Having said that, Franco Zeffirelli’s Hamlet (1990), while not being salacious, and missing a grim-dark atmosphere, gives us a profound film and a more satisfying revenge tale, despite its dearth of blood and magic.

For a differing opinion, see Jon Zaremba’s review of The Northman.

Matthew Pungitore’s short story “Wychyrst Tower” appeared in Cirsova Magazine (Winter 2021).

He has written various articles for the DMR Books blog. In the past, he has done volunteer work for the Hingham Historical Society. Matthew is the author of The Report of Mr. Charles Aalmers and other stories, Fiendilkfjeld Castle, and Midnight's Eternal Prisoner: Waiting For The Summer. Matthew graduated with a Bachelor of Science in English from Fitchburg State University.

If you’re curious, visit his BookBaby author-page.

Contact him at: matthewpungitore_writer@outlook.com