There is a rich tradition of Norse mythology that dates back millennia and with Mortal, those fables get the freshest of takes in the most entertaining of fashions.
Eric awakens in the middle of a Norwegian wilderness and from what we can tell things are not going well for our protagonist. The American is visiting the Scandinavian country to embrace his roots and as Nat Wolff (of Paper Towns fame) plays him, he is equal parts bewildered, shell-shocked, and keenly aware that he is a danger to anyone who approaches him. Sadly, a couple of teens do just that and it does not end well for one of them. There is an electricity to Eric, literally, and so much more.
He is arrested by the local sheriff, Henrik (Per Frisch), for murder. Christine (Iben Akerlie), a local psychologist is brought in by the sheriff with hopes that she can get through to the man who can’t or won’t talk to authorities. Henrik wants answers before representatives of the American Embassy arrive. The lawman wants answers for his community, but specifically the murdered teen’s father, Bjørn (Per Egil Aske).
There is a spark (pun intended) between Christine and Eric. Henrik’s instinct to tap the local psychologist proves to be even more effective than he could have imagined. She, at least, gets him to talk a wee bit before some seriously supernatural events happen and Mortal becomes a myriad of milieus.
The film is an utter blast. The jaw-dropping moments exponentially arrive as the story unfolds. Before the first act becomes the second, the story morphs from an us against the world drama, two strangers stuck together on the lam, a thriller, and yes… even a touch of romance. The less one knows about Mortal before witnessing its majesty, the better. That’s why our plot description will stop right now.
Writer-director André Øvredal (who co-wrote the script with Norman Lesperance and Geoff Bussetil) has crafted a world ripe with unpredictability, shock, and awe. Øvredal has stunningly created two characters in Christine and Eric that are so simultaneously layered, tortured, and multi-dimensional, viewers couldn’t be more compelled to follow their journey.
This entire film hangs on us buying into the chemistry between these two seemingly lost souls who are not so lost once they find the other. What is so captivating about Eric and Christine is that their connection does not emanate from the heart. That aspect is never pushed and if it happens between the two, it is completely and utterly organic. Wolff and Akerlie piercingly portray their characters as sharing a common drive and that is to uncover the truth about what is happening to Eric and most importantly… why.
Both thespians are brilliant. The camera adores Akerlie. Although we know little about her, exposition-wise, there is something unquantifiable about her performance that runs through the Norwegian actress and straight into our collective hearts. She too is scared, like Eric, even if we never learn the source of that inner pain—it doesn’t matter. Through her dynamic turn, we want whatever she wants. Thanks to the nuanced and richly layered script—by the titanically talented trio of Øvredal, Lesperance, and Bussetil—we don’t want to get off the ride that is her quest for the truth, and responses to questions that may not have answers.
Christine is also our eyes and ears into the supernatural aspect of Eric’s persona. Wolff portrays Eric as someone who has been living with this otherworldly aspect of his life and it is all he can do just to not kill more people or injure himself. When the psychologist enters his landscape, things occur to him that never did previously. Could he, possibly, be able to control his “gifts” and even—in an ideal world—utilize them for good. Wolff brings such raw humanity to his character that we are blindly pulling for him, regardless of what he does or who it hurts. This guy is painfully trying so hard to do the right thing, all while attempting to define what could be undefinable. The Los Angeles native brings the most endearing undercurrent to Eric that the audience couldn’t be more vested in his outcome. It is a stirring turn by an up-and-coming actor.
Although many theaters are still closed, some are open and will feature Mortal on the big screen. It is also available On Demand. It probably is too early to be going to the cinema as Covid cases are spiking across the country, but I will say this… Mortal is one I wish I could have seen on the big screen. Giving nothing away, that bridge scene alone needs to be seen with movie theater picture and sound. It still works brilliantly on the small screen and not an ounce of its power is lost by witnessing it while parked on your home couch!
Øvredal exhibits a firm grasp of storytelling that is just remarkable. He wisely and incrementally feeds his wildly original plotline over the course of 104 minutes in such a manner that our connection to the story grows with seemingly endless curiosity. American audiences have discovered the filmmaker from his work on 2019’s Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, 2016’s The Autopsy of Jane Doe, and the 2010 cult hit Trollhunter.
Mortal builds to the most satisfying of conclusions that had this writer uttering, “Oh my G-d,” during the penultimate scene. It is truly remarkable. The film is such a fun ride, rooted in that Norse mythology. Now, a certain well-known character might come to mind on occasion. But that is honestly trivial. This is a tale that stands all on its own and carves out the most unique of niches within its own cinematic mythology.
Grade: A-