I was drawn in, entertained, and informed. This outstanding film was both surreal and so real, just like Iceland's paradoxical nickname as the "Land of Fire and Ice." As a longtime Icelandophile and frequent visitor to this unique island, Godland not only captivated me but placed me there once again. I could almost smell the volcanic sulphur, the dwarf birch and the fresh wind off the glacier. Patient and observant direction allows the viewer to see and feel the land, which, in my opinion, was the star and main character.
The human paradox, I believe, was Ragnar the guide in contrast to Lucas, the man of God. Ragnar, played by my favorite Icelandic actor, Ingvar Sigurdsson (Jar City, Trapped), is adapted and comfortable with the landscape, weather, and animals. What he cannot control, he accepts. Lucas believes in himself and his station in life as a guarantee of survival. As the story develops, Ragnar seeks redemption from his perceived sins; Lucas assumes exemption from his own.
The land and climate govern everything. Early in the film, Lucas is being taught the many Icelandic words for "rain," and as the story progresses, he is drenched is just as many ways. A small campfire burning in an ice dugout is circled by the silent travelers. Silent, except for Lucas who complains: "it is cold." Fording rivers here is not an inconvenience, it is life-threatening.
I have been told that filming with animals is difficult and time-consuming, but animals play a significant part in this film and show their strength, utility and cleverness in many ways. The Icelandic horse is a rarity and shows remarkable stamina navigating the rocky, moss-covered landscape; in addition to the "tolt" the fifth gait.
Lucas finds justification in his ordained role as clergyman. But, when he encounters the brutal landscape and weather in Iceland, he petitions the Lord with prayer and disowns his shortcomings. Ritual and custom overrule Grace and compassion, even for himself. His camera is not only a burden, but further defines him as simply a tourist.
Through the characters, I sensed the coming struggle for Iceland independence to be regained in the following century. The condescension and class divisions between the Icelanders and the ruling Danes presented primitive Iceland versus civilized Denmark.
I had to laugh at the scene where the Danes asserted that you can't grow anything in Iceland and the wind blows over the trees. Actually, southeastern Iceland, where this film takes place, has more than a few thousand-year-old productive farms that have endured repeated volcanic eruptions and ash-falls.
The patriarch of the house, Carl, is comfortable with his station in life, surrounded by luxuries from his homeland that are quite out of place here. His daughters are obedient, hard-working and have all the required skills to run a farm. However, their boredom from isolation is evident and is lifted upon the arrival of Lucas and Ragnar.
The wedding breaks up the bleakness and takes place in a partially finished timber-frame church. It is here that emotions, rivalries and pent-up frustrations appear.
On second viewing, I was more aware of the tracking shots as people walked from the house to the barn and the wedding scenes. Both placed the viewer amidst the action, at a realistic pace. And, riding horseback next to Anna at eye level had me reaching for the reins!
There is an old Icelandic song playing over the closing credits that I am certain has a message and a story resolution, but I'll leave that to others to interpret.
I hope others give this slow-paced but well-crafted film the time and attention it deserves. 10 out of 10.
The human paradox, I believe, was Ragnar the guide in contrast to Lucas, the man of God. Ragnar, played by my favorite Icelandic actor, Ingvar Sigurdsson (Jar City, Trapped), is adapted and comfortable with the landscape, weather, and animals. What he cannot control, he accepts. Lucas believes in himself and his station in life as a guarantee of survival. As the story develops, Ragnar seeks redemption from his perceived sins; Lucas assumes exemption from his own.
The land and climate govern everything. Early in the film, Lucas is being taught the many Icelandic words for "rain," and as the story progresses, he is drenched is just as many ways. A small campfire burning in an ice dugout is circled by the silent travelers. Silent, except for Lucas who complains: "it is cold." Fording rivers here is not an inconvenience, it is life-threatening.
I have been told that filming with animals is difficult and time-consuming, but animals play a significant part in this film and show their strength, utility and cleverness in many ways. The Icelandic horse is a rarity and shows remarkable stamina navigating the rocky, moss-covered landscape; in addition to the "tolt" the fifth gait.
Lucas finds justification in his ordained role as clergyman. But, when he encounters the brutal landscape and weather in Iceland, he petitions the Lord with prayer and disowns his shortcomings. Ritual and custom overrule Grace and compassion, even for himself. His camera is not only a burden, but further defines him as simply a tourist.
Through the characters, I sensed the coming struggle for Iceland independence to be regained in the following century. The condescension and class divisions between the Icelanders and the ruling Danes presented primitive Iceland versus civilized Denmark.
I had to laugh at the scene where the Danes asserted that you can't grow anything in Iceland and the wind blows over the trees. Actually, southeastern Iceland, where this film takes place, has more than a few thousand-year-old productive farms that have endured repeated volcanic eruptions and ash-falls.
The patriarch of the house, Carl, is comfortable with his station in life, surrounded by luxuries from his homeland that are quite out of place here. His daughters are obedient, hard-working and have all the required skills to run a farm. However, their boredom from isolation is evident and is lifted upon the arrival of Lucas and Ragnar.
The wedding breaks up the bleakness and takes place in a partially finished timber-frame church. It is here that emotions, rivalries and pent-up frustrations appear.
On second viewing, I was more aware of the tracking shots as people walked from the house to the barn and the wedding scenes. Both placed the viewer amidst the action, at a realistic pace. And, riding horseback next to Anna at eye level had me reaching for the reins!
There is an old Icelandic song playing over the closing credits that I am certain has a message and a story resolution, but I'll leave that to others to interpret.
I hope others give this slow-paced but well-crafted film the time and attention it deserves. 10 out of 10.