Directed by Andrey Kravchuk, this isn't a story about raiding. It’s a story about The Plot: A Prince in the Mud Forget Ragnar Lothbrok. Viking follows the historical figure of Prince Vladimir of Novgorod (played with a weary, stone-faced intensity by Danila Kozlovsky). After his father’s death, Vladimir is cast out by his murderous half-brother Yaropolk. Forced to flee over the frozen sea, he returns not as a hero, but as a desperate exile.

One of the film's most fascinating threads is religion. Vladimir is a pagan who respects Perun (the thunder god), but the shadow of Byzantium and Christianity looms over everything. The movie treats the "magic" brilliantly—you are never sure if the seers, witches, and "walking dead" are real or just the hallucinations of traumatized, superstitious men. It leaves the mystery intact.

When you hear the word "Viking," your brain probably defaults to a predictable image: a grimy brute with braided hair, swinging an axe while screaming for Valhalla. Hollywood has given us that version for decades.

Viking is not a movie about the glory of the North. It is a movie about the weight of the crown.

(Deducting one point for the occasional shaky-cam, but adding a bonus point for the most realistic shield wall ever put to film.)