Nicolas Winding Refn’s latest, Valhalla Rising, is a Viking apocalypse that begins in the misty Scottish highlands before drifting through yet more mist to the end of the world – yet despite having no connection, in either its geography or genre, to Sogo Ishii’s reimagined Dark Ages chanbara folk tale Gojoe (2000) or Fabrice Du Welz’s post-tsunami chiller Vinyan (2008), it joins their ranks as one of the three most relentlessly intense films of the past decade, thanks to a set of core characteristics shared by all.
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Many films can boast moments of intensity, but there are very few that maintain their intensity from beginning to end.

There is a deadly seriousness to the performances, an otherworldly eerieness of the locations, a hallucinatory emphasis on visionary portents, an ominous persistence to the rumblings of an electro-industrial soundtrack, and a spiritual dimension to the characters’ journeys that renders abstract and ambiguous all topographical specificity. These effects reproduce within the viewer something akin to the uncanny, ineffable thrill of a religious experience – not that any of the three films actually asserts the existence of a god or gods, so much as evoking the fanatical yearning within the characters (and viewers, too) for some form of transcendence. These are all, in their way, quest narratives, even if the object of the quest might not exactly turn out to be what was expected or desired.

In Valhalla Rising, a mute, nameless and seemingly unbeatable warrior-slave (Mads Mikkelsen), later dubbed ‘One-Eye’ for a conspicuous facial injury, breaks free of his bonds and murders all his heathen captors except for Are (Maarten Steven), the young boy who had served with kindness as his attendant. Man and child join a band of Christian crusaders on a journey by longboat to reconquer the Holy Land of Jerusalem, but they all get lost along the way – first on the still-as-death, fog-bound waters, and then on the unknown shores that they eventually reach, traveling up-river into the heart of darkness. Each man is searching for something different, but as they are assailed by delirium, disorientation and despair – not to mention unseen natives – the pilgrims find themselves being led through this new kingdom of the blind by a one-eyed killer, towards a destiny that only he can (half-)see.

If Fear X was Refn doing Lynch, and Bronson was his homage to Kubrick, then Valhalla Rising is the film where the writer/director goes all Herzog (with just a touch of Tarkovsky), following his characters into extreme circumstances in liminal spaces, and letting all manner of clashes and contradictions float downstream as flotsam and jetsam. Christianity collides with paganism, nature rubs up against culture, heaven is confused with hell, and everything in this sparse allegorical landscape takes on the metaphysical qualities of a symbol. It is an effect greatly aided by the colour filtering – mostly dull greys and greens, with One-Eye’s occasional visions in striking blood red, so that, near the end, a sun-drenched image atop a cliff acquires an extraordinarily haunting sublimity in part through its visual contrast with all that has preceded.

The difficulty with sustaining intensity for any period of time is that it so easily becomes ridiculous, but there is absolutely nothing in this brutal, at times violent film that will have you laughing – although plenty to fill you with addled awe. It is yet another string to Refn’s bow, consolidating his position as one of the most consistently exciting and versatile auteurs working in Europe today.

With its growling metal score and hyper-brutish, grunting male violence stapled into beautiful but static framing, Valhalla Rising is easily identifiable as a Nicolas Winding Refn feature. The Danish director is an acquired taste, but even this may be too much and too little for his Pusher fans. Bronson was made quickly during the Valhalla shoot, but it turns out to be Winding Refn’s better work while the long-awaited opus disappoints.

Winding Refn here is fine-tuning artistic ideas hinted at in Bronson

Valhalla offers plenty to look at – although the shots tend towards the numbingly repetitive – but the images only decorate a hollow screenplay. The dialogue, scant though it is, is complete cod. So carefully and often languorously framed it veers towards the art installation (Winding Refn has always been engrossed by the collision between art and violence), Valhalla is interesting but frustratingly under-developed. Still, with Winding Refn and Mikkelsen in the titles, it should attract an urban, late-night cult crowd before perhaps doing its best business on DVD.

Refn’s central character, One Eye (Mikkelsen) doesn’t speak at all, and the film gets off to an interesting start without any sound but the wind and rain lashing the cage where he is chained and fed by a boy (Maarten Stevenson). This is a tribal, Viking age, and the whistling winds and blanket mist and mud effectively conjure up a brutish sense of time and place. Eventually, the chieftain Barde (Alexander Morton) reveals that this warrior of supernatural strength is “driven by hatred” to kill all around him and he is used like a fighting dog in wrestling matches, tethered to a pole. Winding Refn flashes effectively to blood-drenched visions, using Mikkelson’s ruined face and empty socket effectively and creepily.

The violence is bone-crunching and, when One-Eye is sold to another tribal lord, he naturally escapes by disembowelling his captors. The boy follows him, and they encounter a band of “Christian Vikings” – led by Gudmond (Andrew Flanagan) and Kare (Gary Lewis) – who are on their way to Jerusalem and the Promised Land. One-Eye joins them for reasons that are unclear but seem to be about the kind of primal, macho, urges which would pretty much deny this film any sort of female demographic.

Their ship is becalmed by an engulfing fog, as is the film: Winding Refn’s camera takes over to produce ever-more beautiful tableaux, but plot, characterisation, dialogue, impetuous, all dissipate in the studio-bound mist. When the warriors finally arrive on a strange land, primal instincts take over in Hearts of Darkness mode: chapter titles scream “Hell”, “The Sacrifice”, etc (it’s a five-chapter structure), and the droning metal soundtrack comes to the fore.

Much of this seems to have been shot in Scotland – local accents dominate – but Valhalla Rising’s production credits show an extensive patchwork of European backing and indicates a tough financial road to completion. Winding Refn here is fine-tuning artistic ideas hinted at in Bronson, filtering his colours and framing: red, black and grey turn into green and inky skyscapes, indigo-blue mists and sandy colours filtered through the fog. It’s impressive. But there are few ideas to carry this through and the pacing is stalled. At 90 mins, this is a short film; but it never feels that way.

Sometimes a movie comes along that is almost indecipherable, but for reasons unknown, still can’t be shaken from my consciousness. Nicolas Winding Refn’s Valhalla Rising is one such example. It concerns a one-eyed, mute Norse warrior’s quest to discover his lot in life and/or death … I really don’t know which. It could have been the fatigue of being the fourteenth movie seen in less than four days at the Toronto International Film Festival, or perhaps it was intentionally vague to utilize its mood and gorgeous environments as the true focal points. Winding Refn said before the screening that he always wanted to shoot in an exotic place, and this was the chance to make that a reality. So, with the lavish hillsides of Scotland, he and co-writer Roy Jacobsen brought a tale of Vikings searching for the Holy Land—or a place to set up a new one—with them, listening to heavy metal in order to get into the mindframe of the hell that would take over. I do think all involved understood that the story would be left up to audience interpretation, making it more a journey rather than a strict plot, because star Mads Mikkelsen left us with a cryptic message himself before the projector started going. He said, “Sit back, relax, and enjoy that imaginary joint.” It all starts with Mikkelsen’s One-Eye in captivity, being used as a fighter against other Norse tribes’ best—able to take a beating and always shell out more to achieve victory. Helped by a young boy, Are, (played by Maarten Steven), he soon escapes and kills those holding him captive, taking the boy with him as he travels on, visions of red violence coming into his mind, leading him to an inevitable fate. Using the boy as translator to those they cross paths with, a bond is formed between the two, one that holds One-Eye accountable to protect him no matter what. Eventually finding passage with a Viking vessel of Christians, the captain of which sees the use of having a man of his powers as an ally, a fog soon rolls in as they sail to an unknown land. Conditions become dire as food and drink deplete and the water surrounding them becomes salty and undrinkable. Tensions run high and blame is passed to the warrior, calling him a beacon of evil, already having been told by the boy that he came from hell.

The visions become more frequent as we wonder if One-Eye is going insane, is a vessel himself for a higher being, or just supernatural in both strength and mind. Red soaked passages eventually come true in the dull, cold palette used to show reality. Violence runs rampart throughout, allegiances, tenuous at best, and survival playing a large role in everything. Maybe this God of a man is some sort of reaper taking the Vikings on a journey to their destruction or perhaps he has only involved them in the trip to his own, but either way, the graphic nature of combat and battle—dirty and personal, just as you’d think it would be with savages such as these—is prevalent at all times. Right from the start we are exposed to the gruesome fights, seeing two men battle in the mud, feeling each punch connect, a battle ending with the decapitation of the loser by the chain holding the victor in place so as not to escape. Brutal in execution and still beautiful in its hellish visuals, one cannot deny the power of image.

Winding Refn’s Vikings are physical specimens of humanity, not exactly giants, but fierce in their mentalities and demeanors. You would not want to get into a fistfight with any, as they would rip you apart limb from limb. It is this gritty realism that helps in the success of the movie, showing this world as being without rules and governed by strength. The leader will be the general that can keep the rest safe, his hold of power only as strong as the respect given him by those he leads. It only takes one moment of weakness to become expendable, killed and tossed to the side as the next warrior rises up. But then you have One-Eye, a man who could take on anyone or all and be victorious. He is not out for the glory or riches that come in war; he is on a spiritual march to whatever future is coming to him in bits and pieces when he closes his eyes.

Norse mythology is often made into large blonde men wearing horned helmets and furry clothing, weapons at hand to bludgeon and beat. Valhalla Rising doesn’t buy into these clichés or stereotypes, instead digging deeper into the mentalities of these people, the rage and religious fervor that lives inside. The Christians want to find salvation or safety of some form, and they aren’t afraid to spill blood to find it. So it becomes a combination of mythology and Christianity and survival, men without answers on a journey through hell, or into it. I was a little surprised to hear that distribution rights were purchased after it screened in Toronto, not because it doesn’t deserve them—it is a cinematic feat that earns the right to be seen and dissected—but because of its lack of mainstream appeal. So much of the movie is internal, watching actors act without words, making the audience think and decipher what is going on. I just hope the Hollywood machine does not fall into the trap of selling it as a battle royale of Vikings on the sea, a 300 type epic adventure. That would be the greatest disservice of all. The film merits an audience of introspective thinkers and open minds to let the sumptuous nature of all on screen—whether beautiful or disgusting or both—wash over them and grab hold. It isn’t so much a movie to be seen, but one to be experienced.
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Valhalla Rising Film Trailer

Genre:Action | Adventure
Release Date:29 January 2010
Director:Nicolas Winding Refn
Writer:Roy Jacobsen (writer) Nicolas Winding Refn
Language:English
Country:Denmark | UK”
Cast:Talia Zucker, Rosie Traynor, David Pledger, Martin Sharpe, Steve Jodrell, Tamara Donnellan, Scott Terrill