What one sees during the second half of a festival is often more determined by contingency than design. I had decided to see Viet And Nam on the Wednesday. Vietnam War films were all the rage in Hollywood in the ‘80s but the flood quickly abated after 1990. It is not often one gets to see how it looked from the other side — where it is known as the American War, which claimed up to three million local lives. But it was raining too hard so I decided to stay at home.
On Thursday, there was a film about an ongoing war, The Invasion by Ukrainian director Sergei Loznitsa. Sergei has his own style of documentary making; slow, comprehensive, mesmerising. He does not shy away from unfortunate actions of the Ukrainians, such as pulping Russian literature, in between scenes of people with lost limbs and ruined lives. We witness how war affects and damages a whole society, as well as the individuals who live in it. Who can blame them for disliking the invaders?
On Friday there were two films which took a long time saying very little: Wooly, about a sheep farm in Norway, and Realm of Satan, about American Satanists. The former was rather more engaging. No doubt the highlight of the evening was the metal band Sólstafir playing along to the classic 1984 film The Raven Flies, which is perhaps still the best ever Viking flick (and one I’ve seen many times before).
Heavy knives in Sweden
The Raven Flies was big in Sweden it its day, so big that a generation of primary school children were made to watch it and could reliably be depended on to quote the line “þungur hnífur” (heavy knife) whenever they met an Icelandic person. This was also the title of the event.
Sweden was the special guest of this year’s festival. I only managed one Swedish film, G-21: Scenes From Gottsunda, about the gang environment in said town. It’s a doc but seems a little like a Scandi Boyz in the Hood, about the one who got away and was never really suited to thug life. That person is Loran Batti, the director of the film, who was present and did a engaging Q and A after, even if it did not fill one with hope that the problem will be solved any time soon.
Real Guys and Danish Wives
Sunday was given over to two batches of Icelandic shorts, the latter made by film students. The most fully realised is Menning og listir (Arts and Culture) by Tumi Gonzo Björnsson, set in an art museum. Often funny, always surprising, it is one of the sprightliest pieces of Icelandic cinema of late. Runner-up would be Real Guy by Salvör Bergmann, a Black Mirrorish short about social demands and virtual love, with a distinct visual style. However, according to the Jury, the award for best student short went to Sleepwalker by Alfreð Hrafn Magnússon with a special mention to Game Over, by Salvör Bergmann again. With two notable shorts under her belt, Salvör will be a name to watch.
The dance-short King manages to be engaging due to its energetic performance. This is the sort of dance troupe I would have perform in my garden if I was a Roman Emperor, although the ending might be a step too far. A Princess Tale is also about imaginary royalty, a little girl goes off in search of her father and encounters fairy tale beings. It’s cute but eventually circles back to social realism.
Torn is an old-school documentary about Birgitta Spur, the Danish wife of artist Sigurjón Ólafsson. It’s an interesting glimpse into art history and a somewhat sad contemplation of an older woman looking back at lost dreams. Metamorphosis is more arty, about a future without glaciers. Perhaps we will all be looking back at roads not taken.
Love and Sex in Norway
The opening film was the much-lauded Elskling, directed by Iceland’s own Lilja Sigurðardóttir, but made in Norway. At the start, it does feel a little like your typical first-world problems in the world’s richest country. But Elskling delves deeper. Much deeper.
It seems that Norwegians in their otherwise privileged existence really have found time to think things true. The writer, Karl Ove Knausgård, showed us what it’s like to peek inside another person’s brain in the Min Kamp series. Here, a similar feat is accomplished. Going inside the mind of the protagonist forces the viewer to take a long hard look at him or herself. Who are we, and how did we get that way? The scene with the mother is devastating. Elskling is the Norwegian therapy we all needed. Thankfully, it will continue to be screened at Bíó Paradís (with English subtitles).
Meanwhile, the results of the Nordic film awards will be announced soon. All six nominees will be shown in Bíó Paradís this week, one from each independent Nordic country plus Greenland. Our own nominee is Snerting (Touch) by Baltasar Kormákur. The Norwegian nominee is called Sex. As one might expect from Norwegian sex, it is sometimes funny but mostly awkward.
Did you read Valur’s recap of the first days of RIFF 2024? Take a look back to add a few more flicks to your must-see list.
That’s a wrap on RIFF 2024, but RIFF 2025 will be here before you know it. Mark Sept. 25 – Oct. 5, 2025, on your calendar and visit RIFF.is for more details as the event approaches.
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