Don't tell my wife, but for the last couple of years, there's been someone else. It all started with a wild Saturday night, back in September of 2011. It began innocently enough, a happy accident, but quickly blossomed into full-on obsession. Initially, just having my thoughts consumed by that magical evening were enough, but eventually, I needed more. I caved, and invited this person into my home. Things got crazy, and my wife ended up walking in on us. It was impossibly awkward her catching us like that [lurid details].
As a result, we wouldn't meet again until two years later to the day (fine, it was like two years and four days...whatever). All that time apart would make my expectations of our next meeting astronomically high. Surely I would be disappointed, right? Imagine that it ended up being worse than mere disappointment. It was so bad, I was never going to do it again. Never was I going to put myself out there like that. It was too risky, too painful.
I was done with him forever.
Well, I thought I was, anyway. After the Cleveland Steamer that was Only God Forgives [review], I swore I was done with Nicolas Winding Refn. But as my nine-month old daughter luckily slept in her swing a few days ago, I decided to give him one last chance. I decided to go back to 1000 A.D. I decided to watch Valhalla Rising.
Vikings? Yes, please. Mads Mikkelsen? Don't toy with me. Unflinching violence combining the aforementioned pair? I think I have to change my pants.
On paper, it seemed like a sure thing. But after the longest 93 minutes of my life, the only thing I'm certain of is I have now discovered my go-to movie when I can't fall asleep.
Despite focusing on the bloody spread of Christianity a thoussand years ago, and featuring a constantly shirtless and thoroughly badass (and potentially psychic) Viking, Valhalla Rising feels insanely familiar. An oppressive group of outsiders runs into a one man shit storm, and is quickly in over their heads. This man, this f--king beast of a person, single-handedly dispatches them in brutal outbursts of rage. We think he's a good guy, but he revels in the violence so much, he's kind of hard to fully root for. Making cheering for this anti-hero even more difficult? Well, he never says a f--king word.
As a result, we wouldn't meet again until two years later to the day (fine, it was like two years and four days...whatever). All that time apart would make my expectations of our next meeting astronomically high. Surely I would be disappointed, right? Imagine that it ended up being worse than mere disappointment. It was so bad, I was never going to do it again. Never was I going to put myself out there like that. It was too risky, too painful.
I was done with him forever.
Vikings? Yes, please. Mads Mikkelsen? Don't toy with me. Unflinching violence combining the aforementioned pair? I think I have to change my pants.
On paper, it seemed like a sure thing. But after the longest 93 minutes of my life, the only thing I'm certain of is I have now discovered my go-to movie when I can't fall asleep.
Despite focusing on the bloody spread of Christianity a thoussand years ago, and featuring a constantly shirtless and thoroughly badass (and potentially psychic) Viking, Valhalla Rising feels insanely familiar. An oppressive group of outsiders runs into a one man shit storm, and is quickly in over their heads. This man, this f--king beast of a person, single-handedly dispatches them in brutal outbursts of rage. We think he's a good guy, but he revels in the violence so much, he's kind of hard to fully root for. Making cheering for this anti-hero even more difficult? Well, he never says a f--king word.
