‘Godland’ (‘Vanskabte Land / Volada Land’): Film Review | skin 2022

Icelandic writer and director Hlin Palmason land of godHuman ambitions, even in relation to such sacred matters as faith and spirituality, manifest themselves as a fragile, small, and defenseless intolerance against the omnipotent forces of the natural world. These themes offer us a fantasy film, and this moving drama is certainly difficult. But it also goes through a surprisingly weird vein of sly humor, along with the unpredictability that leaves you. In terms of volume, recalls Martin Scorsese. SilenceWhile her provocative questions about the limits of mercy are reminiscent of John Michael MacDona’s criminal vision Golgotha.

In the late 19th century, a two-hour drama about the physical, spiritual, moral and metaphysical journey of a Lutheran priest from Denmark to the farthest corner of colonial Iceland would be an easy sell in the late 19th century. But this is a work. highly original that goes beyond its theological aspects to explore the most universal themes of humanity and our temporal place in the world. Even his death footage is different, especially in the stunning time-lapse sequences that show flesh and blood being sucked into the landscape. land of god There are many things, including the most suggestive Viking bloodbath. northern man.

Inspired by a Danish priest’s wet plate of seven in the late 19th century, the film is one of the earliest known images of one of Iceland’s most remote coastal regions. Director of photography Maria von Hauswolfs takes this historical font as her visual reference to the Academy’s 1.33:1 aspect ratio, with hard edges and rounded corners of old photographs.

Lucas (Eliot Croset Howe) is a young priest sent from Denmark to oversee the construction of a church and establish a parish in rural Iceland. The bishop (Waage Sandø) prepares him for the difficult crossroads he will face after his ship comes ashore, advising Lucas to pay attention to local guides who can read the rivers, fleets and glaciers he must cross. Although the senior cleric insists that his journey will not bring him closer to the volcano, he picturesquely describes its smell: “as if the earth had ripped his pants”.

There’s fear in Lucas’ dirty gaze. But in addition to his outward asceticism, there is also a sign of arrogance, a proudly brazen colonialist who brings God to the primitive subjects of Danish rule. Crossing rough seas, Lucas sort of tries to learn from whatever elementary Icelandic translator (Hilmar Gudjohnson) travels with him, at least starting with the myriad different words in the rain. But dizziness interrupts the class, and his readiness for any linguistic effort seems to end there.

Upon his arrival, he is displeased with the indifferent greeting of the main guide, Ragnar (Ingvar Sigurdsson), a rude old man from the land who spins freeing the “Danish devil” while training the priest’s horse and others. Having a little party. It is about loading the volumetric equipment of Lucas’ camera with its wooden easels, drains and drawers, as well as a large wooden cross that adorns the new church that must be built before the arrival of the harsh winters.

A terrifying scene of an underground worm feasting on a large pile of young horse dung hints at trouble ahead. Likewise, the distant gaze of a volcano, its fiery light spreads in mist and white clouds.

The fierce animosity between Lucas and Ragnar, two polar opposites, is almost symphonic throughout the film, which the priest continues to regard as vulgar Icelandic rudeness, even as he expresses impatience with his candid, curious questions about what it takes to become one. in human. God. Ragnar, with his shirtless morning routine, seems connected to the earth and the elements in a way Lucas could never understand. The Icelandic traveler tells folk tales and sings poems, which seems to infuriate the priest even more.

The psychological and physical gravity of the expedition is amplified by Alex Zhang Juntai’s otherworldly soundtrack, the sounds of your surroundings, and the jarring horns that drive everything from winds to whale bells.

The tragedy directly follows Lucas’ stubborn refusal to listen to Ragnar as he crosses the river, but the priest still reveals an outward sign of humiliation. The higher you climb the mountains, the harsher the weather becomes. “It’s very cold,” says one of the participants, who says with a mischievous smile as they sit by the fire, surrounded by snow and shrouded in chilling cold. Isolated and uncommunicative, Lucas grows weaker, loses stamina and prays to God to save him from an invincible place. He disintegrates and appears closer to death than life, but survives, albeit a broken man.

Halfway through, Palmason deftly changes his tone to indicate that the worst is behind Lucas. He wakes up after a period of unconsciousness in his fate, at the home of Daniel’s widow Carl (Jacob Hauberg Lohmann) and their two daughters, married to Anna (Vick Carmen Sonn) and her premature younger sister. Questions, Ida (Ida Mekkín Hlynsdóttir). During the first dinner with them, Lucas is silent, apparently in awe of his life; He barely responds, even when Carl, with a wicked bolt of lightning, informs him that they could walk there instead of punishing him to the ground.

Church construction goes well, but Lucas refuses to perform the wedding ceremony at an unfinished shrine for nearby farmers, though he participates in the festivities. Meanwhile, speculation grows among the villagers, including Ida, about whether Lucas will marry Anna, even as Carl mocks him for marrying a priest.

Drama Thunderclap The last section begins as Ragnar approaches Lucas before heading to the beach and asks the priest to take a picture of him, as he did with Carl, Anna, Ida and others. Lucas’ blatant denial is surprising, especially as the Icelander begins to confess his sins, emphasizing each one with the refrain, “Pray for me.” The following shows how deeply willpower struggles in the souls of two people, conflict is involved even in the lack of a common language, but only Ragnar shows the ability to be humble.

This crushed scene is followed by something even more unsettling as Luke begins his first ministry in the now complete church and it seems that nature itself is interfering and deeming it unfit to preach the word of God. The film shows the mistaken unanimity of many missionaries in foreign countries, which brings not purity, but violence and spiritual disorder. Everything that happens here suddenly, like a sharp bulletin from another time.

Palmason’s grip over this complex material never wavers throughout the film’s epic length, deftly running to ease the darkness into moments of startling light.

This also applies to excellent actors. Crosset Hove (Palmason’s first debut painting, winter brothers) turns the priest’s face into a mask of excited intensity, trying to hide his deteriorating imbalance. A force like Sigurdsson’s bear does not rule out the painful vulnerability of man, as Ragnar fears God more and more. Son has warm moments as Anna wanted to escape to a place where nothing grows and return to Denmark. And Hlinsdottir (the director’s own daughter, as Sigurdsson appears in his second film, white, white day) forces Ida’s arrogant curiosity and disrespect to wrap Lucas in his own prickly conscience.

How photography was an inspiration land of god, It is advised that DP von Hausswolffs use Lucas’ camera eyes to capture a landscape that the priest rightly describes as “terribly beautiful”. Palmason’s two previous films received rave reviews en route to the festival; This knockout drama represents a huge leap in maturity and ambition that deserves due attention.