Kaleidoscoped

within we are

mesmerized

so by our select

coloured chips

that in quick

circling of

wrist - reset

...shift!...

in the awe

of infinite

possibility

a fleeting

moment

isn't it...?

of knowing

...we shall

never have

exactly such

combination

unlocked

(to us)

again...

like This

I was raised

on Mystification

ingrained

That a Thing

to Manifest

beyond

Phantomness

must First be

Outlined

with a Nail

in the Empty of the Air

and all Concentration

poured There

Into Its Nonexistent

Frame

like a Painting

in Fifth dimension

Mass Warping Time Space

Just one 'Tip

may begin it

But Many Are

Needed

to Lift

the Real

Heft

of Idea

(02.24.23)

Shouldn't Mein Kampf be rewritten/edited? The book was edited first by Emil Maurice, then by Hitler's deputy Rudolf Hess around 1926. It should next be edited by Texas state Rep. Matt Krause, who sent a letter to school districts detailing a list of 850 books that he believed “might make students feel discomfort, guilt, anguish, or any other form of psychological distress because of their race or sex.” Krause’s letter has prompted several book removals in Texas schools, although we really don't know his feelings on Jews.

And we should take a really close look at "The Communist Manifesto." History has a lot of ugliness, but it is history.

What about the Oxford Companion of American Literature? As compendia go, it's just a little too big and a little too controversial. As companions go, you'll be judged by the company you keep, right?

So, kill the messenger or the message? Or both? Just ask a stupid person. He or she (sorry, they) will answer, "More information is not better than less. I have enough to worry about."

Sanitizing books is sanitizing history, and--as the cliché says, "we'll be doomed to repeat it," dirt and all.

If we truly want to sanitize books, I suggest just some 70% isopropyl rubbing alcohol on the glossy pages or freezing the pages that aren't glossy (kills germs, like the SARS-CoV-2 that causes COVID-19--and it's about time!).

You're more likely to "catch" a germ from a book and make it yours, than a really bad idea. After all, shouldn't we get really bad ideas on our own?

In my second year at grammar school, I decided to become a school librarian. There were several perks to being a librarian. For instance, we had a small kitchenette annexed to the library - about the size of a boot cupboard, really - in which we could make tea and toast at break-time. Another perk: we could easily ‘check out’ as many books as we liked. But the greatest benefit of being a member of this select band was that we had unfettered access to the ‘black books’ contained within the ‘forbidden section’ - a glass-fronted locked cabinet that contained various volumes to which access was carefully controlled. Unless you were a librarian, that is.

What books lay within this inner sanctum, this Unholy of Unholies? There were various graphic illustrated sex education manuals (well, graphic to the mind of a twelve-year-old lad enrolled at an all-boys grammar school in 1970s Britain: hardly sensational stuff by today’s standards). More interesting was the slang dictionary of the English language, which I eagerly scrutinised for the plethora of intriguing words that, curiously, were omitted from our standard school dictionaries. Restricted access or not, certain pages were blatantly more well-thumbed than others. Which was also the case with the most notorious tome that had been deposited amongst the other ‘black books’: DH Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley's Lover. By the time I came to read it, almost twenty years had passed since the famous prosecution of Penguin Books for publishing this infamous work: perhaps the greatest cause célèbre in the battle against censorship in the 20th century.

The chief prosecutor in that famous trial, Mervyn Griffith-Jones, had become a laughing stock by suggesting that this was not the kind of book ‘you would wish your wife or servants to read.’ Britain was on the cusp of a social and sexual revolution that would shortly consign Griffith-Jones’ world-view to the dustbin of history. He wasn’t alone, of course, in being unprepared for this; as the great Philip Larkin mournfully expressed a few years later in his poem Annus Mirabilis:

Sexual intercourse began

In nineteen sixty-three (which was rather late for me)

Between the end of the Chatterley ban

And the Beatles’ first LP.

Once I had read the book for myself, I must confess to a certain disappointment. It wasn’t a patch on other works by Lawrence, like Sons and Lovers, The Rainbow or Women in Love. Yes: here in the text of a novel, for the first time, I was able to read some of those ‘forbidden words’ I’d previously been looking up in the aforementioned slang dictionary. But, on reflection, I didn’t really understand what all the fuss had been about.

In the same year that I read Lady C, I also read George Orwell’s Animal Farm, followed soon after by his masterpiece, 1984. What had been a vague unease with the idea of censorship now hardened into an unyielding opposition to it. More than forty years on, my feelings on the matter are stronger than ever. As Winston Smith, Orwell’s protagonist in the dystopian nightmare world of 1984 writes, in his diary:

‘Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.’

Revisionist views of literature, art and music are no less dangerous than revisionist views of history. And, in my view, the rewriting of Roald Dahl (yes, I got to the subject of this Challenge in the end…) is nothing short of monstrous. Or - to use a very Dahlish word - beastly.

Less than a week has passed since I first read, in an article published in The Guardian on February 18th, that new editions of Dahl’s work had been published (in which, amongst other things, Augustus Gloop is now ‘enormous’ rather than ‘fat’; Miss Trunchbull is now a ‘most formidable woman’ rather than ‘most formidable female’; and Mrs Twit is no longer ‘ugly’). And I’m still fuming.

It seems ironic to me that these changes have been made by Dahl’s publisher Puffin, itself an imprint of Penguin - the very publishing house that was once willing to champion DH Lawrence in the battle against censorship. How the mighty have fallen!

Now, it’s important to distinguish between changes of language that might be required for the purposes of understanding and clarity, as opposed to alterations motivated by a desire to bring the thinking of the past into line with whatever happens to be the prevalent attitudes of the current day. Clearly, these are the principles that should be applied when translating from one language to another. Even then, there remains the clear understanding that reading the original text in the original language of composition is always to be desired, if possible.

My understanding of the New Testament, for example, has been greatly enhanced by my reading the text in the original Greek, as I and a few friends have regularly been doing together on a weekly basis for over four years now. CS Lewis, JRR Tolkien and various friends once did exactly the same, almost a century ago, when they gathered week by week to read the Icelandic Sagas in their original tongue, as part of the Koalbiters’ Club (a precursor of sorts to the later Inklings). Much as I love Tolkien’s masterful translations of some of the foundational texts of Middle and Old English (not least that superlative epic poem, Beowulf), I know it cannot compare with the original. If I really want to appreciate Beowulf fully, then I should learn Anglo-Saxon (I have tried, actually!); and then I should read the original text - a text that has not changed for a thousand years. But I shudder to think what text of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory will be available for future readers in a thousand years time; and how similar (or not) it will be to what Dahl originally wrote.

Translating is not, therefore, the same as rewriting. Nor is adapting. I mentioned, in the previous paragraph, JRR Tolkien - surely one of the greatest philologists and wordsmiths of the 20th century. Tolkien’s greatest work, The Lord of the Rings, has been adapted for radio, television and film on numerous occasions. Sometimes, these have been faithful adaptations (such as the wonderful BBC radio version, made in 1981). Two decades later, the Oscar-winning Peter Jackson film adaptation worked under different constraints from those of a radio studio, albeit with a far greater budget; yet that too was also a loving and thoughtful production. Both productions were faced with hard decisions about what to omit, what to retain and what to re-purpose from the source material. The large-scale action scenes were, of course, realised with far greater effect in the film adaptation that would ever have been possible within the confines of a radio studio. By contrast, the radio drama retained much more of Tolkien’s poetry from the epic; a much-loved element of the novel that many of the film’s aficionados, like myself, nevertheless missed from Jackson’s version of the tale. Interestingly, both adaptations completely removed the Tom Bombadil sub-plot (wisely so, in my opinion - some of course will disagree). But I have a great deal of respect for both adaptations, making the very best use as they did of their contrasting dramatic forms.

However, the less said about Amazon’s recent television series The Lord of the Rings: the Rings of Power, the better…

So, adapting is not the same as rewriting either.

What, then, about rewriting? What are the ground rules for this?

One word: Don’t.

Or - to expand slightly - in my view, there is generally only one person who has the authority, should they choose to do so, of rewriting (as opposed to translating or adapting) a work of literature. And that is the original author. Which in the case of the deceased Roald Dahl is now impossible.

It’s interesting to note that very few authors ever do succumb to the temptation - or the pressure - to rewrite their work, once finally published. One of the few recent exceptions I can think of to this is the fantasy author Neil Gaiman, who has published several slightly-revised ‘preferred texts’ after-the-fact of his original published works. There’s also the interesting example of science fiction writer Douglas Adams, who in his own lifetime (let’s forget posthumous travesties like the film adaptation) was creatively involved in several different versions of his most famous work, The Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy, in radio, TV, LP and novel formats. Sometimes these versions diverged from one another in quite significant ways. So, which one is ‘canon’? The short answer: All of them!

Generally, unlike Gaiman and Adams, most authors have resisted the temptation to revisit their published works; and that isn’t at all surprising, really, when you think about it. When one considers the amount of time and energy that is lovingly poured into crafting their works, you can see why authors, once finally reaching that cathartic point - It is finished - would generally rather move onto the next work, or otherwise take a well-earned rest. And this is still the case, perhaps even more so, if they are aware of the limitations and deficiencies of their work. Returning to Tolkien, the preface to the second edition of The Lord of the Rings contains these remarkably honest words:

The most critical reader of all, myself, now finds many defects, minor and major, but being fortunately under no obligation either to review the book or to write it again, he will pass over these in silence, except one that has been noted by others: the book is too short.

Amen to his last statement.

Sometimes - before publication - authors, dramatists and composers expend considerable energy on rewrites. They cannot bring their work to completion. They set the work aside - hoping to return to it, perhaps. Or sometimes admitting to themselves forlornly that it will never reach that final form. Afraid, even, to finish it. To say: ‘There! It’s done.’ For examples, think of The Silmarillion (Tolkien again). Or Schubert’s famously unfinished 8th symphony. And sometimes Death himself intervenes: none more poignantly so than in the case of Mozart, in the midst of writing his Requiem. Lacrimosa dies illa / Qua resurget ex favilla /Judicandus homo reus (‘Full of tears will be that day / When from the ashes shall arise / The guilty man to be judged’): possibly the final words of the Requiem score that he worked on.

(Let’s not get into whether unfinished works should be completed by other hands - even hands as respectful as Mozart’s pupil Süssmayr, or Tolkien’s son Christopher. That’s another controversy for another time.)

But Roald Dahl indisputedly completed many works. Many of them have become beloved classics of children’s literature. He did not feel the need to rewrite them. With what audacity should lesser writers (and publishers looking for a ‘fast buck’ from ‘new’ editions) feel the need to do so? It’s not ‘artistic reinterpretation’. It’s not reviewing the language ‘to ensure that it can continue to be enjoyed by all today’ (as the publisher's blurb maintains). It’s cultural vandalism - pure and simple.

Yes, there are plenty of controversial works in the vast canon of literature. Are we going to raise the age of Juliet in Romeo and Juliet, or Nabokov’s Lolita, because they make us feel uncomfortable these days? Are we going to rewrite Huckleberry Finn, removing from Twain's work every use of the ‘N-word’? That’s the logical next step - it would seem - from trying to tell us that Augustus Gloop might be ‘enormous’, but he certainly isn’t ‘fat’.

Some commentators have suggested that Roald Dahl is being retrospectively ‘punished’ for his well-documented anti-Semitic views. Well, again, I don’t want to go too far down another rabbit hole, that of so-called ‘cancel culture’; but altering or invalidating another person’s work because of some supposed moral shortcoming in the artist - real or otherwise - is unbelievably facile. Caravaggio was, possibly, a murderer. He also happens to be one of my favourite artists. The late Eric Gill’s sculptures have become enormously controversial recently, in view of discoveries about his personal life. But what, then, about film directors like Roman Polanski? Or the possible proclivities of Lewis Caroll and JM Barrie? Or poets like Jean Genet, once a petty thief; or the perpetually inebriated Swansea poet, Dylan Thomas? What about drug-using novelists like William Burroughs? Or even - in the current moment, most controversially - JK Rowling? Can I divorce the art from the artist? Should I? To what extent does the artist inform the art? Should one appreciate the music, or the novel, in and for itself? Complex questions, to be sure: but the unyielding orthodoxies of ‘cancel culture’ seem to be a most illiberal response to me.

‘Ah, but Roald Dahl is a children’s author’ - comes back the rejoinder. ‘Corrupting the young - we can’t have that!’ Well, I’m certainly not dignifying that criticism with a response. The artificial division of literature into ‘children’s’ and ‘young adult’ and ‘adult’ categories is something I began to reject long before I took an interest in Lady C and the other ‘black books’ in our school library.

If you think a work lacks literary merit - don’t read it. If as a publisher you think it’s had its day - don’t reprint it. Altering the text to suit current-day identity politics, without the author’s express permission, is tantamount to pissing on their grave.

Good art should entertain us, challenge us, inspire us, and even, sometimes, disturb us. Think of one of Picasso’s most famous works - Guernica. It contains some shocking imagery - such as a gored horse, screaming women, a dead baby, a dismembered soldier, and flames. It was meant to shock. It was the artist’s response to the Spanish Civil War and the Fascist destruction of the Basque town of Guernica in 1937. Are we to judge Picasso’s work as too troubling for consideration today? Of course not.

But, then again, are we step by step remorselessly heading for the kind of world that EM Forster warned about in his extraordinary short story, The Machine Stops? In this remarkable work, first published in 1928 (!), the author predicts the rise of the internet (yes, really), human dependency upon machines, and the death of scientific inquiry and artistic imagination. In the story, we are introduced to a Lecturer, an ‘expert’ in French history, who to ‘tremendous applause’ declaims the following to his enraptured audience:

‘There will come a generation that has gone beyond facts, beyond impressions, a generation absolutely colourless, a generation “seraphically free from taint of personality”, which will see the French Revolution not as it happened, nor as they would like it to have happened, but as it would have happened had it taken place in the days of the Machine.’

Sorry Huxley - sorry Orwell. Forster got there a few years before you.

I’m going to give the final word to Salman Rushdie: a man who appreciates the cost of creative integrity, and the dangers of censorship, far, far more than most of us ever will. He posted his reaction to the brouhaha about Dahl on Twitter a few days ago. He wrote:

‘Roald Dahl was no angel but this is absurd censorship. Puffin Books and the Dahl estate should be ashamed.’

Spot on. Now I really need to get around to reading The Satanic Verses.

*I will need to be brief, like a piece abridged. Apologies in advance!

It seems to me that works which are "sanitized," are tampered with not to be made "clean," but to be made "quick," eliminating the "messy" bits, which would require/ and build-up our mental muscle. Such exercise is not much desired, because a strong audience has greater demands and asks for more (more nuance, more originality). These are attributes which poorly suit mass-production for mass-consumption, and the prescribed uniformity that follows.

Absence doesn't teach... The gaps remaining create anxiety, not a bridge to understanding. Fat, ugly, dumb do not disappear. Instead, each concept is apt to fester as a sore on the self-esteem, becoming doubly hurtful without proper wording to define "it." We are better advised to name it, identify it, and ask why its distinction is of such importance to us.

On a personal note, I have been teaching at Head Start since 2019... things have been rough as teacher/ psychologist to traumatized tots with families suffering from poverty, homelessness, and all forms of abuse. These children enter preschool minimally verbal, their first language being physical aggression (hitting, biting). Instinctively, they are protecting their little selves from the “unknown.” As they gain words, they very soon banter "stupid," "ugly," and assorted profanity, articulating an underlying fear-of-worthlessness as reflected by their closest adults. Would removing these words from books change children's vocabulary??? No, their daily life has more influence than any language trapped in books—books incidentally which they might never read at all.

The bruises and behavior reports got so bad in our classroom that we side stepped prescribed curriculum (God bless!) and read aloud Sleeping Ugly, a spin on Sleeping Beauty featuring beautiful Princess Miserella (who is selfish and cold on the inside) and her counterpart Plain Jane, who treats everyone the same— in fairness most becoming. The kids gasped at every pointed use of Stupid! and Ugly! that spilled ungraciously from Princess Miserella's mouth, asking to see the pictures again, and again, in fascination. And then, in what is called Choice Time play, they would balk when a peer "forgot" the lesson, saying "Him/ Her actin' like Miserella!" It is a slow go, but it's a start. (*We're working on the grammar too, sigh, but is not the priority*)

Books can only have value if there is some depth of discussion around them. The authors, and their content, are resultants of an upbringing, too, worthy of respect and evaluation in context. We love Roald Dahl at home. The BFG is one of Rémy Niko's favorites, especially when read with theatrical gusto by his Papa... and Mama makes sure to take an opportune moment to question the whys and examine the "we don'ts." Like we don't call people names; and violence of any form is not okay.

Even ripping out words from a page.

Rewriting books as if they are heinous,

Yet the people calling for this are all about acceptance,

Unless it goes against what they want to see,

How is James And The Giant Peach,

Or a story about a poor kid achieving greatness,

Offensive?

How are these bad stories?

When they teach people about values and morality,

A reflection of the era they were written in,

We can't change history because we don't like it,

Books are the same,

Authors deserve to have their work read as intended

Not erased,

Just because there are people that don't like it,

Doesn't mean that a story should be changed

Common sense needs to come into play,

Don't burn books, don't rewrite them,

Just accept the fact that it isn't for you,

Instead of trying to virtue signal dead people,

Find a different book to read

And get some therapy too.

In recent years, when entertainers, comedians in particular, are engaged to entertain on some college campuses, they are given an ever-growing list of topics they cannot use in their bits. And some have been oddly removed from the stage when discussing a personal topic it has been deemed they actually have no right to discuss (e.g., a homosexual man discussing homosexuality).

If it offends you, don’t attend, or if you are already there, walk out. Don’t watch. Don’t listen. Don’t read. Why must those not offended have to miss out, as it were, because some small group of people with the power to impose their will have deemed it offensive for everyone?

That an author’s words are being rewritten because they offend current sensibilities is just another (big) step towards Newspeak. Will we stop with fiction? Have we stopped with fiction? No. Journalists around the world have their words deleted (if not their lives) because of truths they tell. Governments shut down media outlets, remove blogs or essays posted on social media written by their citizens, limit access to the internet (with all its good and bad). There are those who would rewrite history, who don’t want certain books read because the truths told might make some feel badly, or others look bad. Does wishing something never happened make it okay to white it out of existence? Why not read and discuss? Discuss one’s feelings. Discuss why one has those feelings. Discuss why and how we should work to keep history from repeating itself.

Or why calling someone “enormous” is better than “enormously fat.” Or “nutty little boys” is better than “nutty little idiots.” Or why “Cloud Men” is somehow demeaning and should be made “Cloud People.”

Roald Dahl wrote wonderful children’s literature. Why not allow parents the opportunity to have teaching moments with their children rather than play god with a dead man’s words? He wrote what he wrote. It was another time, and we get to know that time and the writer through his words. His words.

For those of you who never read 1984 by George Orwell, (it was the 13th most banned book in the United States in the 1990s and is still banned in some states), Newspeak was the language created by the regime that rules the country where the story takes place. It was designed to limit people’s ability to express themselves. The regime believed that by controlling language, they could control people’s thoughts and behavior. In that society, words were constantly being eliminated and replaced with new ones. The ultimate goal? To eliminate the possibility of independent thought.

Hmmmmm…

@mnezz @estherflowers1 @tk @clarity @quietsilence @vyxyn

are all my favorite...why? because they are simply awesome, every post I read from them has me on my seat wanting more, it has me feeling, thinking, and I always light up whenever I see one of their post!

Down below is one of my favorite pieces I have done!

The Danger Of Silence

How could anyone face the silence alone?

The silence caresses my face

And in it’s native tongue it says “I’m here”

At times silence will become a poet

Never saying anything but leaves a suffocating feeling in it’s place

Crowding into my space

A small grin on It’s face,

wordlessly it tells me “It’s here to stay”

I’m scared to speak

As I write this story

Teardrops slip down my face

Before they can hit the page

The silence collects them in a jar, like rain

And then he would label them with the word “Pain”

Everyone thought that tongues were the sharpest of swords

But the Silence killed them without saying a word

The silence takes your fears and brings them here

We all have the same fear

Not of Death but of our names being plucked from the air

The fear of the Silence that surrounds things that are just no longer there

The silence knows we are afraid of him

But its only makes him smile a blood thirsty grin

This is why we write our names on everything we ever made

Because we are all prone to forget

And so we hope that someone will stumble upon our stories

The ones we have doctored and worn down with age

We hope that they’ll find what we have left

Our names upon the cover page

And just for that moment

It will be as though we’ve beaten silence and cheated death

That in the whisper of those words

We have taken one more breath.

Things are about to get Strange in the MCU.

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness is the newest MCU movie featuring the (former) Sorcerer Supreme himself, Doctor Stephen Strange (reprised by Benedict Cumberbatch). Also returning is Benedict Wong as Wong, Elizabeth Olsen as Scarlett Witch, Rachael Adams as Christine Palmer, Chiwetel Ejiofor as Baron Mordo, and introducing Xochitl Gomez as America Chavez And for a special treat Spider-Man and Evil Dead trilogy director Sam Raimi takes over directing duties for the first time in almost a decade.

After aiding Peter Parker in No Way Home, Stephen Strange unfortunately finds that his actions have great consequences. When he encounters a girl named America Chavez and learns of her extraordinary ability to travel between Multiverses he must defend her against monsters and dark forces are crossing over that seek her power. But soon he will learn that the greatest threat may be himself from another universe. Or so it would appear.

The first positive goes to the performances. Everyone does an incredible job. I believe the biggest standouts are in fact Cumberbatch, Olsen, and Gomez. Cumberbatch is still the best choice to be the titular sorcerer. Olsen is just fantastic as the Scarlet Witch. There's a lot of emphasis on her character in this film and she goes through a major arc throughout. And Xochitl Gomez was great America Chavez. I'll admit I know almost nothing about the character of America Chavez, but after seeing this film I'm willing to check out more of her comics.

The visuals are still amazing. I think the visual effects team outdid themselves in this one. There's a scene where Strange and America Chavez are crossing Multiverses and it tops the trippy scene in the first film. I mean it. This was hella trippy. I'd be down watching it again in 3D... or on acid.

Composer Danny Elfman teams up with Sam Raimi again and he gives an epic score. The best use of his music came during a fight Doctor Strange was involved in and it actually involved musical notes, and you can hear the score be affected by the fight. It was pretty much a battle between Beethoven and Bach. It was amazing. I was grinning like an idiot watching that scene and hearing the music play out.

I do have a major gripe against a certain character in this movie: the villain. No, the villain is not lame in any way. In fact you might be surprised who the villain is. For the sake of not spoiler the movie I won't identify the character or by any certain pronouns. Let's just say that their actions throughout the movie have made me grow to hate that character. To clarify, there's nothing really wrong with the villain. The character is very well written and you do understand their motivations and what is driving them. It's just that some of the things they say to Doctor Strange like calling him a hypocrite despite the shit they pulled before.

Man, this is really hard to explain without spoiling it. Tell you what, if you've seen this movie and know who I am referring to, please send a me a message and I'll freely talk about why this character pissed me off every time they were on screen. For now, let's just say that their actions is similar to something they did in another MCU property, and just like that one they never received any repercussions for their actions (sorta).

There's also some cheesy moments scattered here and there. I mean, I expected as much from Sam Raimi movie, not so much from an MCU movie though. Honestly it doesn't take me out of the movie. Some cheese is good.

Overall Doctor Strange In the Multiverse of Madness is another solid entry to the MCU. In my opinion, it's not as good as the first film but it's a good sequel that's fascinating and fun.

Positives:

-Stellar performances

-Character development & dynamics

-Trippy visuals

-Dark, horror elements

-Danny Elfman's score

Negatives:

-The villain's logic

-Some cheese

Final Grade: B

So those are my thoughts on Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. Have you seen it? What were your thoughts on it? What do you think your alternative universe self is doing right now? Please be kind, leave a like and comment, and check out more reviews here on Prose!

Best Quote:

Doctor Strange: "Red means go?"

America Chavez: "Rule No. 1 about Multiversal travel: you don't know anything."

#harrysituationreviews #film #opinion #Marvel #fantasy #scifi #action #Multiverse #adventure #superheroes #magic

"I will avenge you, father. I will save you, mother. I will kill you, Fjolnir."

The Northman is a Viking epic film directed by Robert Eggers, best known for having directed critically acclaimed films The Witch and The Lighthouse. It stars Alexander Skarsgard, Anya Taylor-Joy, Ethan Hawke, Nicole Kidman, Claes Bang, and William Dafoe.

When a Viking named Amleth (played by Alexander Skarsgard) was a boy, he watched his father, the king, (played by Ethan Hawke) be murdered by the hands of his uncle (played by Claes Bang), his mother (played by Nicole Kidman) forced to become his uncle's queen, and his kingdom be taken from him. Having now grown to be a brutal warrior he strives for revenge against his uncle.

It this premise sounds familiar to you that because the character of Amleth is in fact the inspiration for William Shakespeare's Hamlet, which in turn inspired The Lion King. Although, could you imagine young Simba be like, "I will avenge you, father. I will save you, mother. I will kill you, Scar."

Regardless, this movie is fucking awesome.

The cast is great and all deliver strong performances. Hawke, Kidman, Taylor-Joy, everyone. Though probably the big standout in this movie is Skarsgard. As I understand he's been wanting to make Viking movie for years and I'm glad he got the chance to do so. This guy was a beast in this movie.

Robert Eggers is already proving himself to be an outstanding film director of our time. Having already directed two incredible movies, The Witch and The Lighthouse, how he directed this one is just as epic. The thing I like about Eggers' directing skills is that he knows how to make an artsy film but make it so that the story is engaging. However some audiences don't really see the art Eggers is presenting, only because they're expecting something they've already seen but that's not what Eggers is going to deliver.

The musical score is also amazing. A great use of strings and percussions, as well as incorporating Viking chants as a chorus.

Speaking of Viking, the film really embraces the Norse culture. You can see it in the production, the set designs, the music, and even the customs. There are Viking songs and dances, sports, and rituals that actual Vikings would perform. You may think that some of their customs are pretty brutal but keep in mind that that was their customs at the time. I'm sure a thousand years from now an advanced civilization would look at us and think that we were savages. Plus, it's just really cool to see how practical and historically accurate this film is.

Overall The Northman is an incredible experience to check out. It might not be for everyone if you're expecting a two hour long battle sequence. This is a more character driven story set in the brutal age of Vikings. However, I guarantee you may end up liking and charging towards the gates of Valhalla.

Positives:

-Strong performances

-Eggers' Direction

-Production

-Powerful music

-Use of Norse culture

Negatives:

-None

Final Grade: A+

So those are my thoughts on The Northman. Have you seen it? What are your thoughts on it? Please be kind, leave a like and comment, and check out more reviews here on Prose!

Best Quote:

Fjolnir: "I will meet you at the Gates of Hel, where you will die by the hand that killed your father."

Amleth: "At the Gates of Hel, you will find me."

#harrysituationreviews #film #opinion #Viking #historical #war #revenge #AGrade