This Is The Battle Of The Bands

Stuðmenn face off with Grýlurnar in a cult classic Með allt á hreinu

As the summer of literally zero new Icelandic movies limps on, I find myself back at the library rummaging for dusty DVDs of old films. This time it’s Með allt á hreinu (On Top in English), a 1982 film by Ágúst Guðmundsson. There’s just one small problem: it’s a musical. No offence to musical lovers, but to me they’re emotional spam — unsolicited, over-choreographed, and always a little too desperate to be liked. While some of my friends are flying to London to watch Hamilton on the West End, I close the tab the moment I see “musical” anywhere close to the film’s title. But this time is different. It’s work.

So there I am, trying to jam a borrowed library DVD into an external CD-ROM drive (also borrowed, held together by a spaghetti mess of adapters), and I’m already wary.

Promising beginning

But then the film starts — and I’m instantly hooked. The beginning of Með allt á hreinu is so good, I have to stop the movie and rewatch it. More than once. Even now, I catch myself replaying that opening in my head. The catchy song, the awkward dialogues, the rhythm of the frames — it’s perfect. I don’t think I can name any Icelandic movie with a better opening.

“The catchy song, the awkward dialogues, the rhythm of the frames — it’s perfect. I don’t think I can name any Icelandic movie with a better opening.”

The premise of the film is simple: in the opening minutes, we witness a band break-up, which results in an overnight formation of two rival groups: one all-male, the other all-female. The story then follows these two bands as they tour Iceland.

The film perfectly captures the reality of being a musician in Iceland, which until this day, often means juggling multiple hats. As the band members scramble to make it to rehearsal, we see them finishing shifts at massage salons and car workshops.

The craziest thing about Með allt á hreinu is that the bands aren’t fictional. They’re real. And not just any bands. The male group is none other than Stuðmenn, fronted by the legendary Egill Ólafsson (most recently seen in Baltasar Kormákur’s Snerting). Their rivals, Gærurnar, are played by the actual punk-pop icons Grýlurnar.

Stuðmenn (which literally means “Funmen”) started out as something of a joke, but eventually became the most popular band in Iceland in the 1970s and 1980s. They even toured China at the invitation of the Chinese government — something only a handful of Western bands at the time could boast. The idea of making a film, which might also sound as a bit of a joke, had long been a dream of the band. Though largely improvised, that didn’t stop Með allt á hreinu from becoming a major hit, drawing over 120,000 people to cinemas when it was released.

A soundtrack to change

What begins as a co-headlining summer tour around Iceland quickly descends into chaos, jealousy, and rivalry — both on and off the stage. There are romantic entanglements, aliens, tiny music halls around the country (that, for the band members, often feel massive inside), an ode to the era’s fashion with pointy collars and colourful shirts, summer festivals that aren’t quite like anything else, and a shit-tonne of good music.

Með allt á hreinu manages to capture the spirit of the 1980s while also reflecting changes Iceland was going through during that time. Perhaps, it’s one of the first chronicles of feminism being on the rise in Iceland. The girl band realises they can’t be just backing vocalists — they can and should be the main act. Also, if women want to manage a band, they absolutely can — no matter if no one else in their tiny, dead-end town has dared to try it before.

Stuðmenn represent an Iceland that slowly becomes a thing of the past, while Gærurnar embody a new Iceland: urban, independent, and assertive. The old-school masculinity personified by Egill Ólafsson is contrasted with Ragga Gísladóttir, a powerhouse vocalist with stage presence to match. Ironically, while the two play polar opposites in the film, they got along well in real life — with Ragga eventually joining Stuðmenn.

Adding to its cultural significance, Með allt á hreinu also marks one of the first-ever film appearances of now-celebrated actor Eggert Þorleifsson, who plays Stuðmenn’s roadie.

One thing that non-Icelandic speakers won’t catch in the film is the lyrics — often cringe and a bit too on-the-nose. Like in the scene where Stuðmenn arrive in a village and one of the band members discovers he actually has a son there — the song lyrics quite literally describe the situation. But just looking at the names of the songs gives you the gist: “Íslenskir karlmenn” (“Icelandic Men”), “Franskar (sósa og salat?)” (“Fries (sauce and salad?)”). And then there are ones that don’t make any sense at all, like “Maó Gling” — a gibberish classic that came out way before Jónsi started experimenting with made-up words.

Með allt á hreinu is one of those films people say, “It’s so bad, it’s actually really good.” Even 40 years later, it’s still quoted in conversations, rewatched during holidays, and its soundtrack — released as an eponymous LP — lives on in its own right. This August, it’s coming to the beloved Bíó Paradís for a sing-along screening.

Með allt á hreinu is screening (in Icelandic) at Bíó Paradís on Friday, August 15 at 21:00. Their party screenings often sell out, so be sure to get your ticket early.