Imagine a world where the buzzing of cell phones and the hum of modern cars are nowhere to be found—a world steeped in history, folklore, and raw humanity. For filmmaker Robert Eggers, this is not just a preference but a creative imperative. Known for masterpieces like The Lighthouse and The Northman, Eggers has carved a niche with period films that transport viewers to distinct, often brutal time periods. Recently, in an interview with Rotten Tomatoes, Eggers made his stance on modern settings clear: “The idea of having to photograph a car makes me ill. And the idea of photographing a cellphone is just death.”
Eggers' aversion to contemporary storytelling goes beyond aesthetics; it's a philosophy rooted in his belief that modern technology dilutes the authenticity and immersion that cinema can achieve.
Eggers' cinematic universe is one where history comes alive. From the fog-drenched isolation of The Lighthouse to the visceral Viking revenge saga of The Northman, his films are rich with historical detail and hauntingly immersive atmospheres. Eggers' attention to authenticity extends to dialogue, costumes, and even the dialects spoken by his characters. For instance, his upcoming project Werwulf—set in the 13th century—promises meticulously researched Old English dialogue, a hallmark of his commitment to historical accuracy.
In his interview, Eggers admitted that he might consider a story set in the 1950s, but anything beyond World War II feels like foreign territory. His preference for pre-modern settings stems from a desire to explore human stories untainted by modern conveniences. “To make a contemporary story, you have to photograph a cellphone. It's just how life is.”
This philosophy may pose challenges for future projects. Take, for example, the rumored Labyrinth sequel Eggers is considering. The original, set in the 1980s, embraced its contemporary setting. Would Eggers adapt this to his signature style, or would he navigate the labyrinth with a historical twist?
Beyond his disdain for modernity, Eggers' work speaks to a deeper truth about cinema: its power to connect us with the past. By immersing viewers in meticulously recreated eras, Eggers evokes timeless themes—revenge, isolation, faith—that resonate across centuries. His films are not just stories; they are time capsules, transporting us to moments we could never otherwise experience.
Personal Impressions
Robert Eggers' refusal to embrace modern settings is both bold and refreshing. In an industry dominated by sequels, reboots, and technology-driven spectacles, his commitment to historical authenticity feels almost rebellious. Watching an Eggers film is like stepping into a museum exhibit that comes to life—every detail meticulously crafted, every frame a painting.
However, this approach comes with limitations. By confining himself to period pieces, Eggers risks alienating audiences who crave contemporary narratives. Yet, his niche appeal is precisely what makes him stand out in a crowded cinematic landscape.
For me, The Lighthouse remains a testament to his genius—a film that is at once claustrophobic, mythic, and deeply human. The thought of Eggers applying his craft to something as timeless as Nosferatu or as surreal as Labyrinth is tantalizing.
Do you think Robert Eggers' rejection of modern settings limits his creativity, or does it solidify his role as a master of historical cinema?
