Hlynur Pálmason's third feature follows his fine A White, White Day from 2019, and this one is also heavy on the white stuff, yes, snow and ice. It charts the physical, and increasingly mental, journey of young Danish priest, Lucas (Elliott Crosset Hove) as he sets off from one side of Iceland to the other to build a church in the late 19th Century. His travelling party includes a translator (Hilmar Guðjónsson) and a few hired hands, led by the recalcitrant Ragnar (Ingvar Sigurdsson). The first act of the film is comprised of this journey - think Aguirre, Wrath of God but with tundra instead of jungle. When they finally arrive, after no little calamity, they proceed to to get stuck into construction.The cinematography by Maria von Hausswolff is fantastic, from the unearthly landscape vistas to the incredible shots of lava spewing down the side of a volcano. The aspect ratio of 4:3 with rounded edges is a nice touch too. The scenery is important for thematic reasons, it almost toys with the protagonist in this 'God land' of his, as if to challenge Lucas and tempt him into a confrontation of some sort. I'd go as far as to say the film is a stalking horse - you're promised Godland, but what you're actually getting is Natureland, and all the better for it. If not an atheistic film, it's certainly agnostic.
The pacing is a bit on the glacial side but some of the writing is pitch perfect. On a boat from Denmark, in the pissing rain, the translator reels off numerous Icelandic words to Lucas, who's looking very peaky as he turns to him and says, "And these all mean rain?" On his first proper meeting with landowner, Carl and his daughters, Anna and Ida, Lucas is asked why he didn't just sail to their side of the island. His reply that he wanted to see the land and meet its people is countered with a droll, "Did you meet many people?" Lucas blanks on this, whether from illness or discomfiture. When Lucas and Anna become close Carl warns her off him by saying, "We don't need men like him here - we don't need any more men." There's a curious antipathy towards the interloper and this is repaid in Lucas's mistrust and hatred of Ragnar.
Godland is filled with off-kilter moments. A wedding party wrestling match, the youngest daughter's habit of standing on her horse, a story of screaming eels, some old style photography with silver and mercury (that in fact, may have contributed to the priest's mental state) and all the while, mother nature baring her fangs. The performances are tip-top, especially Sigurdsson, Ída Mekkin Hlynsdóttir (who were also in A White, White Day) and Jacob Lohmann (Carl), and the film leaves a thought nugget embedded in the brain for a later date.
Godland runs as part of the Perth Festival at the Somerville Auditorium at UWA from Feb 20 - 26.
See also:
Two Werner Herzog films share some DNA with this film - Fitzcarraldo (1982) and the aforementioned Aguirre, Wrath of God (1972).
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