The Northman

The Northman

Embarrassing. Robert Eggers sucks the life out of anything and everyone that crosses his one-take path: sex, myth, green pastures, blood, fire, Kidman and Hawke and Anya. This dude thinks he's A24's Kenji Mizoguchi or some shit: what once constituted a radical attention to the negative space within an unbroken frame 70 years ago has now devolved into Hollywood's garden peacockism: an automatic compulsion to frame rapes, separations, and the Aryans to whom tomorrow belongs in expensive, aggressively-centered compositions (have directors suddenly forgotten what a dynamic composition or blocking looks like?) that both wallow in their own insufferable seriousness and look like the default screensavers on Macbook Pros from 2015. It's okay babe! There's an editor on payroll! Their job is to edit! Not everything has to be caught in one go that you just CGI a back or a sword in anyway to piece together two different knuckle-dragging long-takes! Where are the Perceval le Gallois's and 300's and Seven Samurai's and Troy's of yesteryear? I crave mythic tales that are daft and perverse. Eggers gets more bored and miserable with each new project: someone take him to Manhattan Beach so he can have fun fun fun 'cuz his daddy took his TV away.

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