In a bold and haunting continuation of the classic legend, Beowulf: Curse of the Wyrm (2025) reimagines the ancient epic for the modern screen—not as a mere retelling, but as a reckoning. Directed by Robert Eggers (The Northman, The Witch), this spiritual sequel to the 2007 motion-capture film plunges audiences into a darker, more psychological Norse-inspired world, where glory comes at a steep, spiritual cost.
Set a generation after Beowulf’s death, the film follows Eadric, a scarred and bitter warrior who claims to be Beowulf’s bastard son. Living as an outcast in a crumbling post-heroic age, he is summoned by a cursed coastal kingdom tormented by a wyrm—a fire-breathing serpent born from the sins of Beowulf’s bloodline. The wyrm is not just a beast—it is an embodiment of legacy, rage, and unresolved guilt.
Eadric’s journey takes him across shattered landscapes, burned halls, and cryptic ruins once blessed by the gods. Alongside him travels Yrsa, a seer haunted by visions of Ragnarök and tied to the wyrm in ways even she doesn’t fully understand. Together, they must confront not just the monster, but the myths that gave it life.
Eggers’ signature atmospheric direction brings Beowulf: Curse of the Wyrm to life with stunning historical authenticity and mythic dread. The visuals are breathtaking—windswept fjords, blood-soaked rituals, flickering torchlight against cave walls carved with runes. The wyrm, designed with a mix of practical effects and restrained CGI, is terrifying not only in form, but in what it represents: a beast forged from forgotten sins and suppressed truths.
Thematically, the film is more than a monster hunt. It’s a meditation on toxic legacy, the cost of violence, and the weight of unearned myths. Eadric (played masterfully by Tom Hardy) is no noble hero—he’s angry, broken, unsure if he’s even worthy of redemption. His reluctant transformation into a hero reflects the tension between fate and free will that echoes throughout Norse legend.
The final act is operatic: a descent into a collapsed burial mound where Eadric faces not only the wyrm, but the spirit of Beowulf himself (a silent, hulking presence portrayed by Ray Stevenson in archival-like flashback sequences). It’s an emotional gut punch—an acknowledgment that even the greatest of men leave scars behind
