Vanskabte Land

Iceland is terrible and beautiful.

A wooden trunk is uncovered with seven photographs in it from a hundred and fifty years ago in Iceland. The trunk belonged to a Danish priest who died there. Among the images are snow covered mountain ridges, a waterfall, glacier, and a portrait of a girl on a horse. Godland imagines the circumstances of how the photographs were taken.

A young Danish priest, Lucas, is assigned to a remote Icelandic village. He is told to adapt to the people and place, but because he is arrogant, he does neither. Against the advice of his guide and despite freezing rain and snow, Lucas insists upon going into the mountains and crossing a treacherous river. By the time they make it to his assigned village, Lucas is miserable, detested, isolated, and barely alive. Lucas is destined to become a part of Iceland, but not in the way he desires.

The sights and sounds of Godland are exquisite and resplendent. Listen to the women and birds singing, the ocean swells, the roar of a waterfall, a fierce river current, and volcano rumbling. Peer beneath the surface of the river, look across ice fields and canyons, see raindrops beginning to fall on smooth and sable stone, find your way through the thick fog, and gaze up close into a woman's eyes.

One of Lucas' greatest mistakes is seeing himself apart from nature, animals, and the local people. In showing the cycles of the seasons, and of life and death, Godland gently makes us aware of this crime. It is just one of the many wonders and complexities of this compelling, visually stunning, and thought-provoking film.

Godland premiered in Cannes and I saw it at the Toronto International Film Festival.

The first thing that strikes the viewer at the outset of Hlynur Pálmason's GODLAND is the 1:33 aspect ratio framing. The edges are curved like that of a photographic plate. It's the first of many indelible images that Cinematographer Maria von Hausswolff captures in 35mm. The visuals are key here in Pálmason's screenplay as he weaves a story around photographs taken by his protagonist, Lucas (Elliot Crosset Hove), a vain Danish Priest tasked with traversing the rugged Scandanavian landscape in order to build a church in Iceland in the late 19th Century.

Lucas hires a brawny Icelandic guide, Ragnar (Ingvar Sigurdsson), to lead the journey. After many travails, they reach their destination - a remote village. Lucas finds a room in a shack owned by Carl (Jacob Lohmann) and his two daughters, Anna (Vic Carmen Sonne) and Ida (Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir - the Director Pálmason's actual child).

The plot is merely a device for Pálmason to create the setting for his film. The term "Godland" could be more accurately translated as "Godforsaken". The terrain is at once beautiful and foreboding. The innate impatience of Lucas is exacerbated by the physical and mental toll the surroundings take on his body and mind. He doesn't lose faith as much as he fails its challenges. Von Hausswolff's camerawork brilliantly creates a world of its own - a character. Pálmason uses a number of long single takes to place the viewer in the environment.

The villagers aren't a particularly religious group yet they seem to embody what is known as faith, more than the preacher sent to enlighten them. Pálmason seems to be initiating a conversation with the viewer where one ponders whether the notion of organized religion truly has meaning in such a remote habitat. Is the earth god or goddess (Gaia) the rightful ruler here? Lucas is such an imperfect vessell that Pálmason does stack the deck a bit (and a few of the plot permutations come off as unneccessarily specific), but he has a well wrought vision. GODLAND is something to behold.

A bit slow and vague to my personal taste the movie is divided in two parts that shows the travel and settlement of a young Danish priest (protestant) and photographer to a remote village on Iceland, on the 19th century (then a colony of Denmark, from 1376 to 1918), with distinct languages.

The first part focus on the travel and hardship of the travel with the loss of a friend and rising animosity between the priest and some people of the party; the second part focus on the settlement of the priest and some of the locals, with rising of of disputes and claims, while he involves with the daughter of a local farmer and a builder that acompanished him the first part of the movie.

The photography is marvelous with the Icelandic landscape and to a degree it shows the variation between the seasons and the body and soul of man, that loses gradually his aim and mission till he looses all of his former personality.

But other than that it didn't have a really strong message being more a display of beauty in harshness landscapes and personalities than having a message on itself. For this I score it with a 6.5 out of 10.0 / B-.

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This movie is a feast for your eyes. The colors, sounds and scenery are lusciously incredible and pull you into this terribly, beautiful world that is Iceland. The story moves in a continuous slow beat that makes you feel every moment of the journey. The story unravels slowly but keeps your interest throughout. Some parts were shocking, a few funny in a dark way and some even puzzling. The attention to detail is striking, in every scene the contrast and saturation of color is near perfect. There isn't anything I disliked about this movie. I thought it was a true piece of art. I recommend seeing this movie and being patient throughout.

Visuals: 10/10. Sound design: 10/10. Storyline: 10/10. Where this film loses me is primarily the storytelling and dialogue. Some things happened in this movie that just felt odd and out of place. Some characters said/did things that made me feel like i had missed a huge part of the movie. The dialogue was a huge reason that the storytelling was inadequate. All the characters feel, though seemingly on purpose, extremely stiff and nothing they say flows at all. However, like I said, that was probably Hlynur Palmason's intention for the movie is an adaption of simple photographs which is evident in the cinematography. This film is not really a movie so much as a slideshow, which, although it makes for stunning photography and a unique shtick, makes the characters less relatable. However, I must say there were moments near the end where a felt a strong bond with the protagonist that I hadn't expected throughout the first hour and a half.