WOMAN AT WAR (Kona
fer í stríð) (2018)
A gallery of grotesque and very human characters,
skies and faces blown by the
wind,
and many many many sheep
to animate the landscape:
to animate the landscape:
the Icelandic Benedikt
Erlingsson returned
to the 24th Sarajevo Film Festival
with another surreal comedy in “Woman at War”.
A few years ago he won
hearts with his series of vignettes
collected under the title “Of Horses and Men”.
With this mini-saga about a
middle-aged choir mistress with a sideline in eco-terrorism,
he has ventured
into more
traditional storytelling,
but retained a wacky sort
of an outsider humour.
Anchored
by the brilliant and bold interpretation of the actress Halldóra
Geirharodsdottir,
the
film tells of the implications that individual initiative can have when fighting
the
neoliberal monster
and
the social stereotypes.
We
are reminded of the ideas of Foucault or David Harvey,
as
well as of the acts of terrorism and vandalism from
films like “Die Dritte Generation” (1979) and “Night Moves” (2013).
Just
that here all happens in an icelandic comic key that never loses its depth or
anger.
Halla
uses her bow and arrows to bring down high-voltage power lines connected to the
aluminium smelters feeding off Iceland's geothermal energy.
Nobody knows who she is.
Apart
from the jazz band and the open-throat singers
who
appear in key moments on screen
as
melodic commentators,
fellow
conspirators,
and
sympathetic bystanders
offering
accompaniment to some of the action.
They
keep popping up in the sphagnum
like
Greek choruses.
Like
I said, it's wacky.
Meanwhile,
good-hearted Halla has been trying for years to adopt a Ukrainian war orphan.
Just as she gets the news that a child is
waiting for her,
the
law closes her in.
On
her terrorist actions she is shot from slightly below.
As
she gazes up at the electricity cables above, she looks like Joan of Arc in a
woolly jumper.
Geirharðsdóttir
engages in a very physically demanding role.
Halla
spends a lot of time bounding across volcanic crags
and evading the surveillance helicopters which
hunt her.
Later
on she saves herself
by
hiding
under
the fleece of a dead sheep,
just
as in the previous film there was a horse lending its carcass
as
a saving shelter.
And
the Ulysses' Homeric stratagem comes to mind.
Erlingsson
is also making fun
of
what is probably an unheard of news for the Icelandic citizen,
given
the wide natural spaces available and the reduced demographic pressure.
He
ironizes the obsession of the contemporary Western citizens
to
be an object of control,
from
spy satellites, cameras closed circuit, drones.
He is also self quoting his pervious work by
bringing
back the character of the Argentine tourist (Juan Camillo Roman Estrada).
He
is here hilariously targeted due to its obvious extraneousness to the context,
subject
to numerous checks of the local police.
The purpose of laughter here is to exorcise what may be the
result of an ambient catastrophism.
Thus, the spectator laughs to see the same character being
continually arrested instead of Halla.
All these mishaps, however,
are the result of decisions made by a political regime that
allows arbitrary arrests and stereotyping.
In the same logic,
the viewer is as suspicious as the heroine,
and becomes as paranoid as she is.
Halla will manage to do it
all, of course.
She blows up her last pylon,
escapes and collect her new daughter.
It
is a delight to always feel the fun the filmmaker and his team had while making
“Woman at War”!
A
comedy that manages to use a classic narrative,
including
the two contrasting missions of the protagonist (the ecologist and the mother),
her
helpers (sister, mole, cousin and landscape),
his
bitter opponents (technology, politicians),
but it bathes it an all-Icelandic humor.
A
film that continuously oscillates between fairytale and a cruel tale.
But
supported by an unbridled imagination,
by numerous variations
on the theme of
the landscape
and those who live in it.
Benedikt
Erlingsson confirms again
that he is a precious talent
for those who love to occasionally
indulge in some clever grin,
triggered by a scratchy satire,
seasoned
with the right amount of malice.
Sarajevo August 16th, 2018
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