Imagine, if you will, the 1990s. You’re making a movie. A movie that doesn’t satisfy your test audiences and requires numerous re-edits that drag your production roughly $15 million over budget. A movie whose director will be replaced by the creator of the novel you’re adapting. A movie whose film composer, Graeme Revell, will be replaced by Jerry Goldsmith. A movie starring Antonio Banderas at, arguably, the height of his popularity. A movie that Roger Ebert will pan and which will bomb so horribly at the box office that fuzzy studio math puts it as the #32 or #1 worst box office flop in history (adjusted for inflation). A movie with so many production problems that it caused Omar Sharif to temporarily retire from acting (1999-2003). In Sharif’s own words:
I said to myself, ‘Let us stop this nonsense, these meal tickets that we do because it pays well.’ I thought, ‘Unless I find a stupendous film that I love and that makes me want to leave home to do, I will stop.’ Bad pictures are very humiliating, I was really sick. It is terrifying to have to do the dialogue from bad scripts, to face a director who does not know what he is doing, in a film so bad that it is not even worth exploring.”
IMDb (2003)
If you imagine all of that and think it’s just not possible that this movie could be shockingly pretty darn good, well, you’d be wrong. You see, the movie in question is The 13th Warrior, based on Michael Crichton’s Eaters of the Dead (1977)(itself a loose adaptation of Beowulf and the historical writings of Ahmad ibn Fadlan). And The 13th Warrior, I’m here to say, is surprisingly good in a campy “full of heart” sort of way. Why? I’m glad you asked.
The 13th Warrior, as you might have guessed, is essentially the basic plot of Beowulf with the added fictionalized historical narrative of Ahmad ibn Fadlan, who is best known today for his fairly detailed writings about his observations of the Volga Vikings (look them up if you’re curious). In our version of the story, Fadlan has been sent as an emissary after the husband of a woman he attempted to woo got him effectively exiled. In his journey north, he meets up with several “Norsemen” and, by way of a seer and prophecy, is unexpectedly forced on a quest to defeat an ancient evil called the Wendol, who are terrorizing a small village. Leading the charge is Buliwyf (Vladimir Kulich), a soft-spoken, stern warrior. Joining them is the multilingual “jester” Herger (Jahn Dennis Storhøi), Skeld (Richard Bremmer), Weath (Tony Curran), and many more (they start with thirteen friggin warriors, y’all). For the most part, the film focuses on the cast attempting to fend off and understand the Wendol and Fadlan’s attempts to learn about and earn the respect of his Viking compatriots.
Truly, the most compelling part of this film is its omnipresent heart. An action film it may be, but its more breathtaking moments are without swords. Fadlan’s first interactions with the Vikings set a perfect stage for their differences, one that clearly demarcates the latter as savages through their various ritualistic practices, such as their funereal practices or hygiene. Of course, Fadlan comes from the “civilized world,” but that world is the way it is, the film suggests, because of its opulence. The world of the Vikings is gritty, beset by aggressive storms, fog that holds wonders, and more. It’s a superstitious world, one which Fadlan learns to understand is a consequence of untamed nature. Perhaps my favorite scene in the entire movie is Fadlan’s successful attempt to learn the Viking language, which he does while listening to his unexpected companions before a fire. It’s campy, completely unrealistic, and yet so deliciously satisfying to watch. Learning the language allows Fadlan to tear down the barriers between their cultures, opening the way to mutual respect, especially with the stern Buliwfy, who turns out to be quite intelligent and curious when he approaches Fadlan to learn a piece of written Arabic.
All of this detail is important, because The 13th Warrior is less a story about flashy action sequences than a classical heroic tale of honor and loyalty, friendship and cultural exchange. Hell, if you come to this film for the fights, you’ll be disappointed because the only good one is the Viking honor fight that is really a giant head game to put the sniveling prince in his place. The swordplay is lackluster and very 90s, but the character work and scenery is top notch. Most of the film was shot in British Columbia, one of the most beautiful regions on Earth, and that means huge portions of this film are set in lush green forests and mountains, the kind most Washingtonians will know quite well. That produces some incredible drifts of fog, a natural feature that has a significant role in the narrative as a supernatural specter that hangs over the entire story.
Beyond that, The 13th Warrior stages an overt conversation about the nature of the supernatural. The fog is perhaps the most passive example of this, as the opening sequence shows with Fadlan’s confusion as to why a boy would stand on the prow of a ship for an absurdly long amount of time (to make sure everyone knows they are real and not fog trickery). The most active example are the Wendol themselves. The viewer must take Fadlan’s perspective in trying to find the “reality” behind the mask of the Wendol, who are believed to be an ancient evil of bear-like monsters. As the narrative progresses, that mystery is challenged and reasserted, turning the Wendol from ancient mystery to familiar humanity to inhuman humanity. This narrative makes for a compelling mystery in the middle of all the character work. It also makes the Wendol pretty creepy even if the action sequences do a poor job of properly conveying that fact — a bunch of dudes in bear furs isn’t really that scary, y’all.
Honestly, the most peculiar parts of this film are the things you just couldn’t get away with today. Antonio Banderas, a well known Spaniard who also apparently has difficulty saying “animals” and has the word changed to something else in his movies, is, surprise, not even remotely Arabic. Banderas’ charm notwithstanding, this is such an odd choice given that much of the first 30 minutes of the movie are spent in the company of Omar Sharif, a man who is actually from Egypt, an area that, I think, was part of the Abbasid Caliphate in which Fadlan, whom Banderas plays, served. Today, I’d suggest hiring someone who, y’know, is actually Arabic, but Banderas’ characteristic accent does come in handy here, in part because most of the film centers on his interactions with people whose language he has only just learned. Thus, the accent. Constantly.
Probably the biggest misstep here is the portrayal of the Wendol, which I found uncomfortably similar to indigenous Americans (or, rather, caricatures of them, since the Wendol are cannibalistic and Neanderthal-ish). I don’t necessarily have issue with the Wendol being cannibals or monstrous or clearly “other.” Indeed, I think you need that here so that the heroes discovering things about the Wendol that seem more human has more weight. However, some of this might be from my U.S.-American sensibilities. The Wendol do use atlatls, which humans were using in ancient Europe some 30,000 years ago. Perhaps this is merely an approximation of a savage remainder. There’s also the fact that this entire story is from the perspective of Fadlan, and as with all first person accounts, the viewer’s bias is a concern.
With all that said, I find myself strongly in disagreement with the late Roger Ebert, who stated that this film lumbered “from one expensive set-piece to the next without taking the time to tell a story that might make us care.” Even the consensus opinion on Rotten Tomatoes echoes this by calling the plot “thin.” But I think they all missed something here. The plot isn’t thin. It’s a deceptively simple story that is part monster mystery, part action vehicle, and part culture clash. Sure, the film is campy at times. Sure, the film doesn’t try to be more than it is even in its subtle hints at deeper characterization. But it is an honest film. A direct film. It’s not that the plot is thin. It’s that the plot is easily identifiable, and that, I would argue, makes it easier for audiences looking for a thrilling ride to immerse themselves. This isn’t Blade Runner 2049 with its absurd obsession with excessively long scenery shots. It’s an action movie whose slow parts set up the stakes for its action. And there’s something purely enjoyable about that. Sometimes, that’s all a movie needs to be. And in that, The 13th Warrior succeeds with honors.
