These are not

Vikings, they are models with loose beards.

Even the first press photo released before the much-anticipated return of the Vikings, or rather its sequel with the successor Valhalla, threatened with its antiseptic appearance.

Well, at first it was difficult to get into the Vikings as well and hope is the last thing that abandons the bras.


But no.

This does not last long either.

Vikings: Valhalla

takes place about 100 years after the Vikings' end.

Ragnar Lothbrok, Björn Järnsida and the others are in Valhall, but the legends of their great deeds live on, as does the conflict between the old and the new times, asatron and Christianity.

Here we follow the sibling couple Leif and Freydis (Swedish Frida Gustavsson) who are drawn into the power struggle for the Norwegian throne and by extension also England.

Well, there are historical celebrities here as well, such as King Knut and Olof Skötkonung (and the mentioned Leif has the surname Eriksson so you have to assume that he will pull west out what it suffers) which always tickles the popular historically interested but around these figures have they built a generic Hollywood adventure that could have taken place in any sword and sandal environment.


But it's nice and capable, of course, the budget is probably huge.

The crucial

difference is that the Vikings were written from the Norwegians' raw-barked anarchist perspective, with the accompanying moral palette.

There, the main characters could slaughter Christian monks without the script punishing them for it.

The new screenwriters have instead wrapped the plot in lame contemporary values ​​that should not clash with anyone.


Ragnar Lothbrok would snort contemptuously at the jolly love scenes.

There are no

dubious figures or difficult-to-interpret types here, such as the predecessor's wonderfully dubious Ivar Benlös and the shipbuilder Floke (Gustaf Skarsgård).

Instead, everyone is exactly what they seem to be - and if you look good, you are most likely good.

It must be said that it took a while before I was sucked into the Viking world;

had to crawl over some thresholds, the (even there) a little too good-looking actors with a little too white teeth, and of course the general macho bread.

But in the end, the bearers broke through (almost) all my barricades.

And that thanks to a charming angularity and an infectious storytelling joy.

So in retrospect

, it's obvious that the Vikings stood and fell with the screenwriter and author Michael Hirst.

He was the source from which the story sprang.

The six long seasons offered a winning mix of history lesson and testosterone.

And then that odd language treatment that was a little annoying at first but soon turned out to be quite clever.

Michael Hirst created Vikings based on his own deep-rooted interest in the time, Valhalla was born out of a wallet.