Review of Valhalla Rising (2009) by Lee M — 13 Jul 2013

I can almost picture the grin of shit-eating glee on Nicolas Winding Refn's face at the idea of a casual moviegoer's reaction upon seeing "Valhalla Rising". Say this for it: imagine no longer what Terrence Malick's "The New World" might look like as splattered with even more blood and mud, jerked off onto and then filtered through a nightmare. That's "Valhalla" for you. More than that, that's Refn for you. You want hell? He'll give it to you. What sparse dialogue there is is hard enough to cut diamonds. And the live-wire Mads Mikkelsen as One-Eye, a "Django"-istic warrior who kills his master to bum along a team of Christian Vikings set on a crusade to found a holy land, continues to be basically the Danish Michael Fassbender without uttering a syllable, blending with Refn and cinematographer Morten Søborg's storm of brutal imagery without clashing with it, but with the capable nerve and danger to know that he could if he wanted to.

There's nothing groundbreaking here in terms of story, but there's a fever to "Valhalla's" lucid presentation of itself that makes the film feel like a kind of twistedly unique cinematic treat, and yet also the sort of thing that might materialize on the brink of sleep before waking you in a daze of sweat, fear and panic, or the extra definition added to your bedroom's shadows when you turn off the light.