Film Review
Robert Eggers’ The Northman plunges the audience into the Viking world with confidence. There is no extensive exposition. The film seems like a traditional revenge epic, but it gradually reveals itself to be something far more critical. Beyond the sword fights and violence, the film is a criticism on the cost of masculinity. Eggers does not glorify the Viking honor code — he interrogates it and invites the audience to question it as well. The Northman critiques toxic masculinity by showing how inherited ideals of masculinity and honor codes consumed Amleth and turned him into an animal in service of a tradition and fate he never chose.
The story follows Amleth, the young prince who witnessed the murder and betrayal of his father by his uncle. He narrowly escapes and dedicates his life to avenge his father. This becomes his identity. As an adult, Amleth is not a man in search of self but one who fulfills what society told him it meant to be a man. He kills and howls, continuing to ignore his emotions and trauma. He becomes a human weapon, and Eggers invites us to watch this transformation unravel — not necessarily glorify it.
The cinematography supports this critique through its immersive camerawork, with handheld shots and movements around the space. In the village raid and other battle scenes, the handheld camera immerses the audience in an experience. The unbroken takes of the scenes anchor the audience in the brutality. It is intense and visceral, but also exhausting and painful. The heroic battles are chaotic, violent rituals that sacrifice the body — but the soul as well. In the final duel between Amleth and Fjölnir, the grandeur of the scene amplifies its tragedy. It is not triumph but rather confirmation that Amleth was imprisoned by destiny.
The mise-en-scène reinforces the film’s tone and argument. The costuming and makeup amplify the animalistic behavior of the men. The use of natural lighting, fire-cast shadows that carve intense expressions on their faces, creates a world where even quiet moments seem like omens. The CGI family tree, one of the film’s few uses of digital effects, is symbolic and confirms that Amleth is trapped in a legacy of masculinity that forces him to live a predestined fate.
The film’s syuzhet is clever as well. The trauma of Amleth’s childhood is not dwelled on — it is shown, then time skips forward. The audience is not there to watch him process it, because Amleth himself doesn’t. He jumps straight into vengeance the same way the story does. The flashbacks and visions only reinforce the sense that he is trapped in a loop he inherited. Like The Lighthouse, Eggers explores how men internalize their roles until they become imprisoned by them.
The performances from the actors are raw and deliberate. Alexander Skarsgård gave what was required to embody Amleth. He was intense and feral when he needed to be, but he also showed emotional complexity to represent Amleth’s suppressed grief. Willem Dafoe’s brief role adds a mythic texture, acting as a bridge between the human and supernatural. Nicole Kidman delivers a vital twist to Amleth’s story — her confrontation scene undermines the entire masculine schema and fantasy Amleth has built his entire life on. Anya Taylor-Joy’s character undermines it as well but in a different way, and her performance as Olga reflects that.
Compared to The Lighthouse, The Northman is grander in scale but shares similarities in theme. Both films explore men driven mad or hollow by the roles expected of them. Both rely on cyclical narrative structures, intense lighting and scenes, and animalistic and mythical imagery. Eggers continues to draw from myth — not to glorify the primal, violent past, but to investigate the universality of myths and why they endure time.
In the end, The Northman is not a great epic or revenge tale. It asks what happens when masculinity is inherited and mistaken as duty — when vengeance is treated as virtue. Eggers doesn’t just show a man transforming into a beast — he shows why. In doing so, he challenges the kinds of myths society is forcing men to live.