Viking Night: Erik the Viking
By Bruce Hall
June 18, 2013
BoxOfficeProphets.com

Oh, it's *that* kind of threesome.

All great things are said to have humble origins, and this column is no different. For so it was many years ago, I found myself among friends with nothing to do on a Friday night. We decided to have a Gen-X potluck - someone said they were bringing a rotisserie chicken, I drew beverage duty and my friend J was told to bring something on VHS (kids: this is like a DVD except the picture stinks and playback requires a bulky machine the size of a Prius). J called me to ask what movie it should be, and naturally I suggested something violent with lots of explosions. Meanwhile, he was babbling about a cerebral Viking warrior who gets tired of battle and embarks on an epic journey to bring peace and light to his people.

I replied that a Viking movie without battles might as well be Sleepless in Seattle.

And so a mighty compromise was reached. We would watch Erik the Viking, and I would make a very strong and culturally appropriate beverage (something called Glogg). Also, as we consumed the chicken we would hurl the bones into the fireplace, because Vikings. The event was a great success, and there was indeed much feasting, and verily did the Glogg flow that evening. In fact it went so well that it became a semi regular thing, and of those days there are many a great tale of merriment and dumbassery. But what of Erik the Viking? Was it good, bad, or meh? And how could a Viking movie with so little killing in it possibly be compelling to people whose primary interest in Viking culture was the bad table manners?

Well, there’s a reason we started calling it Viking Night.

First of all, easily the best thing about Erik the Viking is Tim Robbins, whose schoolboy earnestness is ideal for a character who's like a fish out of water among his own people. Erik is a forward thinking Viking who has begun to question the sustainability of a pillage-based economy. When we meet him, he's discussing this in the middle of battle with an unfortunate maiden named Helga (Samantha Bond), whom he just can’t bring himself to violate. He's attracted to her wit, her logic, and her quaint assertion that there must be more to life than conquest and destruction. Erik is strangely drawn to her, the way people are when they're meant to be together. So it's sad when he accidentally and totally stabs her to death, defending her from two of his horny comrades.

Stricken with guilt and disenchanted with the ways of his people, Erik takes to the mountains, where he consults with an ancient mystic. Freya (Eartha Kitt) tells him that war and darkness has descended upon the land, and only by finding a mythical artifact called the Horn of Resounding can he save his people. The question is, are his people worth being saved? After brief consultation with his unrepentantly barbaric grandfather (Mickey Rooney), Erik decides the answer is no - but he resolves to kill two birds with one stone. He will find the Horn, use it to banish the Darkness, but he will also bring Helga back from the land of the dead. Guilt over her death has convinced him he’s in love with her, and it's quickly obvious that Helga's soul is not the only one being saved here.

Erik puts together a team of men with similarly unresolved issues with the afterlife, and sets off on his journey. What he doesn’t realize is that among his men is a traitor, and that rescuing someone from a predicament YOU created might not come across as an act of selflessness. It sounds like a fable because it pretty much is, and beneath the movie’s sardonic wit (former Monty Python member Terry Jones wrote and directed) is a faint, but perceptible amount of humanity. Watching Erik lead his men is almost like watching one of those animated kids' movies where the moral is always some generic crap like "always follow your dreams" and "believe in yourself no matter how big a pain in everyone's ass you are".

It’s just hard not to root for such a good guy, and since Tim Robbins (still) looks like he belongs on a box of Wheaties, he's perfect for the role. The actors around him are workable, if not memorable. The only member of the cast I really had a problem with was - strangely - John Cleese as the villain, Halfdan the Black. Halfdan is a bloodthirsty yet frugal seventh century warlord-slash-businessman who believes in cutting costs and people's body parts off. Cleese turns in an effortlessly glib, mostly vintage portrayal. But his character doesn’t play a large enough role in the story, and in the end his presence ends up feeling almost like an annoying distraction, since you could argue the real threat is elsewhere. It’s not Cleese’s fault - but as written, Halfdan is a waste of his talent. But for my money, the real downer is the story's lack of payoff.

Despite its satirical flavor, Jones's script obviously has opinions for us about faith (or possibly lack of it), destiny, and how loyalty means different things to different people. I'm not saying this is high art, but there's a little more to this movie than you think - which is why the ending feels like such a copout. If a film suggests things but never follows through, or the story gives up on itself right at the end, then why are we watching? Erik the Viking concludes with what feels like the crappy alternate ending you'd see in the "special features" section on the DVD. It just doesn't fit the story, and when you add to that a boring villain, a movie that could have wrapped up with a lot of heart ends up feeling like a weak joke.

Despite this, I still find Erik the Viking pretty amusing, and I declare it deserving of its (very minor) place in the Monty Python Pantheon. Its smug, winking contempt for authority not only appealed to me and my slacker friends, but it went down well with Glogg and rotisserie chicken. We eventually moved on to other movies but the name stuck, and so did my interest in storytelling. So I say that if you don't mind seeing something new that's actually a little bit old, give Erik the Viking a try. And if you'd like to see something that's funny, but not quite enough to remember why you were laughing, that goes for you, too. If nothing else, be thankful to Terry Jones simply because without Erik the Viking this column - and the witty, insightful observations herein - might not even exist.