Filmography Worship: Ranking Every Robert Eggers Film
Written by Andreas Babiolakis
Filmography Worship is a series where we review every single feature of filmmakers that have made our Wall of Fame
Robert Eggers has already solidified himself as one of the most exciting cinematic voices of America. There’s a reason why I labeled him one of the best contemporary filmmakers: his historical perfectionism amidst anarchistic hysteria makes his films feel so well put together whilst being completely impossible to bottle up. I also love that we’ve been introduced to his authorial voice without feeling like he’s a one trick pony incapable of variety; whilst all of his works — by the time I have written this list — all feel similar, they each possess their own tones, natures, and magic entirely. Each of his films are indebted to the mythologies and lores of different civilizations, and they are all respectful of their sources, and I feel like we are authentically transported in these obviously fictitious fables. I cannot wait to see what else comes from this auteur who is beyond promising: he’s already here as a director to be watched. Here are all of the films of Robert Eggers ranked from worst to best.
4. The Witch
If your worst film of your filmography is The Witch, then you’re doing something right. I’d consider The Witch to be one of the best directorial debuts in recent memory, although Eggers has gone on to state that he isn’t happy with the film years later; he wasn’t able to replicate his exact ideas quite in the ways he desired. I don’t think the initial adorers of this film will have this problem, because what Eggers seemingly missed didn’t tamper what succeeds with us: pure minimalist horror within Puritan England. What is terrifying here is what you don’t see, and what Eggers eventually unveils feels completely unbelievable in such a cosmic way. I’ll never forget what a splash it made at Sundance, where it was easily the biggest takeaway of that festival (especially because it came out of nowhere; who is this director; who is this young actress; what on Earth did we just watch, and is there more like this?). The film was as big of a breakthrough for Eggers as it was for the lead — a then-newly discovered Anya Taylor-Joy. Perhaps Eggers is onto something when he reflects on the missing pieces of the puzzle he wanted to make, but it only makes this horror fable feel all the more quaint and deceptively modest, which allows its final act to completely tear your expectations apart.
3. The Northman
I wasn’t sure what to expect with The Northman, especially when the trailers promised a historical epic like many we’ve seen before. This time Eggers was blessed with a hefty budget — a reported sixty million dollars — and he was able to do whatever he needed to get the job done. This resulted in a huge cast full of performers that are already established Eggers regulars (Willem Dafoe, Anya Taylor-Joy, Ralph Ineson) alongside massive veterans (Alexander Skarsgård, Nicole Kidman, Ethan Hawke, and even Björk, the latter not identifying as an actress for the most part). The sets are bigger than ever, and the effects are even more ambitious. However, Eggers’ signature dread, manic storytelling, and visceral environments aren’t lost; if anything, they make The Northman feel like a punishing viking epic that truly captures the intensity of such a tale. Revenge is depicted quite pessimistically here, so one may never know what to expect, particularly not the extramundane finale that only someone like Eggers would even dream of trying to pull off. Eggers has stated that The Northman is his combination of the action of Conan the Barbarian with the art of Andrei Rublev, and you can see that mindset in every single frame.
2. Nosferatu
Is there any reason to revisit one of the most iconic horror films, especially since Nosferatu has already been remade to great effect with Nosferatu the Vampyre in the seventies? Only if Eggers makes it count, of course. His version of Nosferatu is rich with historical and contemporaneous analysis of civilizations and the stigmas surrounding mental health and purity. Eggers allows us to descend deeper and deeper into madness in a film that is equal parts his most traditional film and still as horrifying as ever. To watch Eggers’ Nosferatu is to feel like you’re watching a loved one fall to illness and damnation, and that may be its most shocking aspect. To take on such a cherished property a century later is daring enough, but Eggers adapts Nosferatu like he’s delivering us a portfolio of what he’s done so far, with the fixation on pagan ritualism via The Witch, and psychological trauma a la The Lighthouse, as well as the capabilities of size and scope like The Northman. For most directors, using an existing film as a crutch would indicate tiredness or a lack of ideas. For Eggers, Nosferatu hints at further promise of even more horror mastery to come.
1. The Lighthouse
While I have loved every other film Robert Eggers has released thus far, the one film that has stood out as a nearly-completely unique experience is The Lighthouse. Outside of the 1929 film The Lighthouse Keepers that could easily have been a source of inspiration for Eggers (where a father-son duo of the titular occupation are similarly stranded at this seaside destination, only the son here is biologically sick), I can’t recall a single film that even comes close to feeling like this claustrophobic, psychological horror. You can predict that the wickies (who aren’t related and don’t get along, here) are going to slowly grow mad, given their confinements and brooding resentments towards one another, but The Lighthouse escalates itself to such an extreme level of insanity at such a rapid pace. Eggers has never shied away from the uglier sides of living throughout history in any of his films (he hardly romanticizes the eras he captures), and that definitely applies with the uncomfortable habits of these two keepers. With all of this in mind, it feels impossible to tell where The Lighthouse is going to go, and its hysterical third act is something special: a rare cinematic achievement where I genuinely felt the rug pulled from underneath me. With a climax that is as much of a mental breakdown as it is a mythological and philosophical ascension, The Lighthouse remains a breathtaking achievement, and Robert Eggers’ greatest film to date.
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from X University (formerly known as Ryerson), as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.