Reykjavík Grapevine - 29.06.2007, Page 19
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It is hard to pinpoint with any accuracy when an Ice-
landic film industry emerged. It may not even be im-
portant to pinpoint when exactly it happened, what
probably matters more is that it happened. For the
purpose of this article, let’s say that the first sem-
blance of an industry emerged in 1978, when the Ice-
landic Film Fund was established by the government
with the sole purpose of financially supporting the
production of Icelandic films.
This was a watershed moment for Icelandic film-
makers who had struggled to finance their films. Al-
though filmmakers still strain for financing, the fund
set up a framework that made it realistic (or less unre-
alistic at least) to produce Icelandic movies and gave
birth to professionals who paved the way for the next
generation of Icelandic filmmakers.
Today, the Icelandic film industry is experiencing
certain growing pains. There are four to eight films
made domestically each year and Icelandic films are
regularly featured at international film festivals. Yet,
Icelandic filmmakers say that working conditions are
difficult and funds are lacking. The Grapevine con-
tacted several industry insiders to find out where Ice-
landic filmmaking stands today and how much has
really changed in the last 30 years.
The Icelandic Film Industry in a Nutshell
“We should keep in mind that Iceland is a small na-
tion, but we manage to produce many good films.
The fact that we have a film at the Toronto Film Fes-
tival almost every year is incredible. Especially if we
compare that to the Swedish film industry for ex-
ample, which put out 45 films in 2005 and none of
them was screened at the Toronto Festival. That is
a remarkable fact,” says Skúli Malmquist, producer
and co-founder of the Reykjavík-based independent
production company Zik Zak Filmworks.
Established in 1995, the company has produced
more than one project a year since 1999, including
Dagur Kári’s Nói Albínói and Voksne Mennesker, Rag-
nar Bragason’s Fíaskó and Rúnar Rúnarsson’s Oscar
nominated short film The Last Farm. Currently, the
company is working on various projects, such as co-
producing Sólveig Anspach’s feature film Skrapp út
(Back Soon), shot in Iceland earlier this year; and
Vesturport’s Surf, directed by Árni Ólafur Ásgeirsson
which will start shooting next year. Zik Zak’s biggest
project at the moment is a new film by director Da-
gur Kári, The Good Heart, an English language drama
that will mostly be filmed in the US, hopefully this
fall. The movie is in pre-production but is already fully
financed by local and international investors.
“Our goal is to produce at least two feature films,
one documentary and one or two short films every
year” says Malmquist, and adds that it is difficult for
an independent company to maintain such a busy
production schedule, in particular because of the lack
of funding.
So far the company has managed to finance its
projects but 50–70% of the funding comes from
foreign investors, which Malmquist says is unusually
high compared to other countries but quite typical for
the Icelandic industry. “I think that few nations in the
world need to obtain such a big percentage of the
funding from abroad,” Malmquist says.
“I would like to see the local TV stations participat-
ing in the projects to a greater extent than they have
so far, as well as paying a reasonable price for the
films. As the situation is today, it’s easier to sell your
films to TV stations in Denmark and Sweden while
you need to struggle to get a similar price for the films
in Iceland. That isn’t normal,” he says, adding that his
crew is still optimistic that things will change for the
better.
The Icelandic Film Centre
It all starts with funding. Raising money and build-
ing connections with foreign investors; attending film
festivals around the world and convincing distributors
and TV stations to support projects is an essential
part in Icelandic Film industry.
In 2003, the laws on the Icelandic Film Fund were
changed. The fund was dissolved as such and the Ice-
landic Film Centre was established to take over the
operations of the fund. But even more importantly,
The Icelandic Film Centre was given the direct respon-
sibility of acting as an export agency and promoting
Icelandic films in foreign markets.
“It is difficult to maintain an international net-
work when you make a movie every other or even
every third year. We try to provide an international
network for film workers and handle relations with
international film festivals on behalf of Icelandic film-
makers,” Director Laufey Guðjónsdóttir explains.
The market for Icelandic films is small. A domestic
film may typically draw 10,000 viewers at the box of-
fice. Per capita, that number is proportionately what
best selling domestic movies draw in the rest of Eu-
rope. But it is still only 10,000 people, while the pro-
duction costs remain similar, regardless of capita. This
is the harsh financial reality Icelandic filmmakers must
face.
Funding…
This year, the Icelandic Film Centre has around 400
million ISK in funds to support filmmakers divided
between TV projects, feature length movies, and
shorts and docs. According to an agreement made
last year, that amount will be increased gradually to
reach 700 millions by 2010. Each year, around 100
projects receive funding on all levels of production,
from developing screenplays, to anywhere between
pre-production and post production.
The Film Centre follows strict guidelines when se-
lecting projects for funding, Guðjónsdóttir explains.
Each project is carefully scrutinised by an indepen-
dent committee of industry professionals who do
not have ties to the Icelandic Film Industry, based
on their commercial viability, artistic aspiration, and
most importantly, how well the filmmaker has done
his homework.
“It is a common misunderstanding that a movie
producer sits with his feet upon the table and plays
around with money. That is not true. Everything
needs to be well solidified when we receive an ap-
plication to fund a project for production. You need
to have a schedule, you need signed contracts with
everybody, cast, crew and other investors, and you
have to show that you will be able to finance the film.
It is important to select carefully, not only because it
is a shame to let the money go to waste if the project
falls through, but also because when you select one
project, you turn down another one,” Guðjónsdóttir
concludes.
In addition to financial support from the Icelandic
Film Centre, the Icelandic government recently agreed
to reimburse 14% of production costs incurred for
film and TV production in Iceland from the National
Treasury. The move has not only benefited Icelandic
filmmakers financially, it has also drawn an interest
from large foreign production companies that regu-
larly visit Iceland to shoot such movies as James Bond:
Die Another Day, Batman Begins and The Flags of our
Fathers to name a few, often using Icelandic crew
members. Filmmakers are generally very pleased with
this development, since Icelandic cres have gained a
lot of experience working with their foreign counter-
parts.
Laufey Guðjónsdóttir of the Icelandic Film Centre
told us: “We recently had the Institute of Economic
Studies at the University of Iceland do a research on
the 14% reimbursement plan. According to the insti-
tution’s report, the government gets more in return
than the 14% it has to pay back. In the past, we have
typically financed 15–25% of a film’s budget, and we
are trying to raise that percentage now while the rest
is financed from abroad, so we can see that there is
money coming into the country from this industry.
Sometimes a lot of money.”
…Or Lack Thereof
Despite improvements in recent years, the most com-
mon complaint from Icelandic filmmakers is about the
lack of funding for Icelandic projects.
Filmmaker Rúnar Rúnarsson: “The problem is the
lack of funding. The Icelandic Film Centre has been
doing a fine job and now we are waiting to see if
things will improve at The Icelandic National Broad-
casting Service (RÚV) and whether they will increase
its contribution to Icelandic filmmaking and TV pro-
gramming.”
Rúnarsson’s short movie, Síðasti Bærinn í Dalnum
(The Last Farm), was nominated for an Oscar in 2004
and his next short movie, Two Birds, starts shooting
in August. “As the situation is today,” Rúnar contin-
ues, “most production companies are producing their
own projects and it can be hard for a new filmmaker
to make his own movie. If you are, for example, doing
a movie with a 100 million ISK budget, you can get
40% financial support from the Icelandic Film Centre
but the rest is up to you, and gathering 60 million
ISK isn’t something you do in a matter of minutes.
You need to have been attending cocktail-parties
at Cannes for the past ten years, been to festivals
around the world and know some Germans who can
provide funding.”
Icelandic Filmmakers are particularly incensed over
the lack of support from the National Broadcasting
Service (RÚV), where most Icelandic films end up be-
ing shown. “RÚV takes almost no part in funding Ice-
landic movies,” states Friðrik Þór Friðriksson, whose
film Children of Nature was nominated for an Oscar
as the best foreign language film in 1992. Friðrik is
Iceland’s most experienced filmmaker after nearly 30
years in the business and producing or directing over
50 films. His production company, The Icelandic Film
Corporation went bankrupt almost three years ago,
after taking a huge loss on an expensive project, an
event that most Icelandic filmmakers agree was a ma-
jor backlash for the industry.
He adds: “In Denmark, the Danish Broadcasting
Service (Danske Radio) is obligated to fund 25% of
all projects that are produced. If we intend to run a
National Broadcasting Service, it needs to take more
part in the production. We need participation from
those who have the most interest to protect, and that
is RÚV, since all these movies end up being shown
there anyway, and usually get between 70–90%
viewer rating.”
His opinion is also shared by Baltasar Kormákur,
one of Iceland’s most successful filmmakers. After di-
recting movies such as 101 Reykjavík and The Sea,
Kormákur got an opportunity to direct A Little Trip
to Heaven, starring Forrest Whittaker and Julia Stiles,
before making Jar City, the most successful domestic
film in Iceland to date. Baltasar also points out that
RÚV’s obligation is not only related to financing.
“We need to get more opportunities for filmmak-
ers to work in television. Working in television is a
better preparation for making feature length films
than working on short films. I don’t mean that mak-
ing short films is negative. But a made for TV movie
is much closer in form to a feature length film than
a short movie. It is good to be able to gain experi-
ence from working in TV instead of making a feature
length film that 500 people will come to see” Kor-
mákur states.
Þorgerður Katrín Gunnarsdóttir, Minister for Ed-
ucation, who oversees both RÚV and the Icelandic
Film Centre and the government’s participation in the
film industry, says she is aware of the situation and
steps have been taken to increase RÚV’s participa-
tion in Icelandic filmmaking. “We have just signed a
new agreement with the Association of Icelandic Film
Producers that sets a better framework for how RÚV
is involved in the funding.”
Should Iceland Demand Epics?
“Approximately 95% of Icelandic filmmakers don’t
get full funding and that fact tends to result in them
being bitter and angry. Bitterness is the filmmaker’s
biggest disease,” claims director and producer Óla-
fur Jóhannsson at Poppoli Pictures. His company has
mostly focused on documentaries, or what he likes
to call “visiomentaries”, where the script is directed
but all the main characters are real. Poppoli’s recent
projects include Africa United, Blindsker, Act Normal
and the newest output, Queen Raquela, a film docu-
menting the lives of ladyboys in the Philippines, which
will premiere in September. A feature length movie is
also in the works, a Kung-Fu comedy called Higher
Force, starring Ingvar E. Sigurðsson and Sopranos ac-
tor Michael Imperioli.
Jóhannsson himself is used to the lack of funding:
“I usually manage to get up to 70% of the finances I
need to make my films. I don’t pay myself large sala-
ries and my staff is underpaid, but making the films
is worth it. That’s the biggest reward. Filmmakers
shouldn’t expect to get all the funds they need to
make their movies. That’s a big misunderstanding,”
Friðrik Þór Friðriksson, however, says that foreign
funds are no longer as open to Icelanders as they
used to be and that production of large scale proj-
ects is not only unviable, but impossible: “You can’t
produce expensive Icelandic movies, expensive period
movies for example, with the funding system we have
in place now,” Friðrik says. In his opinion, the next
step should be to establish a risk fund for filmmakers
in order to finance more expensive projects. A typical
Icelandic movie project requires a budget between
100–200 million ISK, but Friðrik says we will need to
be able to fund films for up to 2 billion ISK.
“In the next few years we will see a wave of cheap
movies made in Iceland, not bad movies, but we will
see a stream of cheap movies set in modern times,
which will demand a great imagination. We are talk-
ing about making Dogma 95 movies basically, for a
100 million ISK budget. These will mostly be movies
about social disasters, alcoholism, or cancer just like
the dogma movies are. The lack of funding for ex-
pensive projects is limiting the artistic possibilities of
filmmakers and screenwriters in that sense,” Friðriks-
son says and admits that he has been thinking about
a risk fund in relation to his desire to film the Icelandic
Sagas in particular.
Þorgerður Katrín Gunnarsdóttir, Minister for Edu-
cation, told the Grapevine that she understands this
frustration, and that a special fund for bigger projects
has been discussed and will be considered in future
negotiations, but “right now it is my opinion that we
should prioritise the funds so that we can create more
projects made for TV.”
Baltasar Kormákur, on the other hand, does not
share those worries: “I’m not sure if it should be pos-
sible to fully finance such expensive projects through
Icelandic funds,” he says. “Every story can be told in
a relatively cheap manner, but if you want to create
an expensive epic move, I don’t think it is unreason-
able to demand that is commercially viable. I think it is
only natural that people create a name for themselves
as filmmakers in order to be able to make expensive
movies. Almadóvar made 20 movies before he got to
where he is today. It is ridiculous to expect to be able
to make a movie for one billion ISK or more here in
Iceland if you don’t have the name recognition to at-
tract funding from foreign investors. So, I don’t fully
understand this complaint,” he says and adds that
the way the funding system is set up now, it allows
young directors to create medium-size movies that
can earn them the recognition to move on to bigger
things.
Realistic Expectations
“Icelanders tend to demand that every Icelandic mov-
ie becomes a hit” says Baltasar Kormákur. “The fact is
that when it comes to movies, perhaps one out of ten
become successful. In all of Europe, there are only a
few titles each year that are shown anywhere outside
of their home country. The majority of Icelandic mov-
ies are invited to international festivals.”
“In many ways, I think the Icelandic movie in-
dustry is in an upswing,” Kormákur continues. The
situation has improved a lot with a new contract be-
tween the government and Association of Icelandic
Film Producers, signed last year. Hopefully, that will
result in a better product. There is always room for
improvement, but I think the industry right now is
turning out a more balanced product. Technically, we
see far fewer movies that do not meet standards.”
In Friðrik Þór’s opinion, however, Icelandic film-
makers are spreading their energy too thin. He be-
lieves that it is realistic to expect Iceland to produce
around five feature length films every year but, in
order for that to be viable, it takes a more concen-
trated effort. “In my opinion, there are simply too
many struggling production companies here. I have
always advocated for creating one unified film pro-
duction company. But, everybody wants to be the
King, so it has never been possible. For a production
company to develop, it needs to produce three to
four films every year, and possibly one foreign proj-
ect as well. That is realistic, but a company would
need more directors and producers to support such
an operation.”
The Narrative Tradition
Iceland is known for its narrative tradition. From the
sagas, to Halldór Laxness, Icelandic literary tradition
is rich. This creates a peculiar dilemma for Icelandic
filmmakers. The majority of Icelandic films that have
been well received domestically are based on mate-
rial written for another medium, i.e. a novel or a
play.
“It is a shortcoming of the Icelandic movie indus-
try that a field of screenwriters has not developed,”
says Baltasar Kormákur. “Nobody can make a living
in Iceland writing screenplays, so Icelandic writers
understandably focus on books. It is the same prob-
lem in the theatres. Icelandic authors have occasion-
ally written scripts, but they lack proper training. Di-
rectors can often adopt a story written for another
medium to a screenplay, but then they are mostly
dramatising the story for their medium. I think you
need to be a writer to write a good script, it de-
mands all the same elements, creating characters
and creating a storyline. When you adopt a previ-
ously written material to the screen, you are work-
ing with a writer. I wish I had a good writer to work
with who was only writing for the screen. It can be
a very good collaboration. The Director often has a
good perspective of the story and can offer some
criticism. Writers sometimes become too involved in
their work to see the faults.”
Friðrik Þór believes that Icelandic writers could
also benefit from the collaboration. “I think writ-
ers that have worked on movie screens have gained
from that as well. Their books often become more
picturesque. There are many Icelandic books that
are ideal for adapting to the screen. But I am always
hoping for a writer who takes an idea and turns it
into a script directly, without first writing a book,
but many of them are such ‘effectivists.’”
Baltasar Kormákur also offers another explana-
tion for the popularity of the adopted novel/play:
“When a material has been previously introduced
and people know it, it is more likely to attract an
audience, think of the DaVinci Code for example.
That is also why we see so many sequels made. Peo-
ple like to see what they know. We are a little like
children in that sense, we always want to be told
the same story again. But let’s not forget that there
have also been stories that have been adopted from
books here in Iceland that have not done well.”
End Credits
As both the Minister for Education, Þorgerður Katrín
Gunnarsdóttir and the Icelandic Film Centre’s direc-
tor Laufey Guðjónsdóttir point out, films are an im-
portant part of the nation’s cultural heritage.
Despite the relative success of Icelandic filmmak-
ers at international film festivals, audience numbers
have been on the decline for years. Especially among
younger audience, as studies have shown that the
average age of people who attend Icelandic movies
is much higher than the average age of the general
moviegoer.
Filmmakers point out that coverage of Icelandic
films in local media is often misleading. Media out-
lets generally speak highly of the success of Icelandic
movies at film festivals, but don’t seem to mention
that many films do poorly in Icelandic cinemas and
distribution on foreign ground is often difficult.
A partial explanation for poor attendance is that
with increased production capabilities and an av-
erage of five Icelandic films coming out each year,
the novelty of Icelandic films has worn off. Icelandic
audiences no longer accept sub-standard Icelandic
movies out of national pride, and demand some-
thing that compares to the best in other countries.
The recent success of Baltasar Kormákur’s Mýrin
(Jar City), which drew over 80,000 people at the box
office, a new record for an Icelandic movie, shows
that Icelandic audience will turn out for a movie that
grabs their interest. Icelandic audiences in return will
need to realise that without their participation and
support, the Icelandic film industry will likely not
turn out many such movies.
Text by Sveinn Birkir Björnsson and
Steinunn Jakobsdóttir Photo by Gulli