Reykjavík Grapevine - 11.01.2013, Qupperneq 22

Iceland, as you may have gathered, is a small island na-
tion in the middle of the North Atlantic, a fact which as
much as any other has determined the course of cinema
here for most of its history. The trafficking of film prints is
quite the logistical project, so new films from Hollywood,
with its globe-spanning might, have been the primary
attraction on Icelandic screens since around World War
II. Films for a more niche audience, that can only be ex-
pected to screen a few times at most, only make it here
through heroic individual initiative. Festivals like RIFF
and its predecessors have long imported new art
films, but vast tracts of film history—classics,
let alone more obscure titles—have been
rare objects, the provenance of private
hobbyists. (The pop star Páll Óskar, for
instance, is said to have perhaps the
largest collection of 35mm film prints
in Iceland. If you’re very lucky, he may
invite you over to watch one.)
According to Björn Norðfjörð, a
film studies professor at the University
of Iceland and a specialist in Icelandic
cinema, repertory screenings here have
recently been in short supply. He says that
filmmaker Friðrik Þór Friðriksson, a key figure in
the rise of a domestic film industry in the late 1970s,
“was instrumental in the legendary cinema club Fjal-
akötturinn, which was never really replaced, and the
screenings of classics has been very limited ever since.”
That is, limited to the Icelandic Film Museum, which has
its own archive of foreign films but has recently been fo-
cused on screening its Icelandic holdings, and now Bíó
Paradís downtown.
PARADISE RECLAIMED
Creating a more diverse film culture has been the goal
of Bíó Paradís ever since it opened in 2010. At the time,
programme director Ásgrímur Sverrisson told Grapevine
that the theatre’s ambitions, beyond first-run bookings
of foreign arthouse and American independent fare,
were to foster an interest in film history in Icelandic cul-
ture at large, by presenting an ambitious slate of classi-
cal, cult and new festival films. Asked if he thought there
would be an audience for such films, Ásgrímur replied,
“This is what we are excited about finding out—will any-
body come?”
Since then, Ásgrímur says the audience response has
been “variable,” but the work continues. It’s important,
he continues, “because it has an effect on how film is
perceived in the culture.” Icelanders can, unsurprisingly,
claim a high rate of cinema attendance per capita—es-
pecially among student-age moviegoers—but the op-
tions are relatively narrow. Broadening a sense of what’s
out there was, and continues to be, the goal; building an
audience for regular repertory and special programming
was, and continues to be, the challenge.
This fall saw, as usual for the theatre, a significant
chunk of screentime given over to festivals. But, perhaps
more significantly, there’s been a steady presence of in-
house programming. The BÍÓ:DOX programme started
in November as a grab-bag of recent documentary
hits, and led to an open run for the music documentary
‘Searching for Sugar Man.’ It was an “experiment,” Ás-
grímur says, in keeping up with more non-fiction film,
put together with the help of Brynja Dögg Friðriksdóttir,
of Reykjavík Shorts and Docs.
Bíó Paradís is also at work developing a regular
monthly LGBT slot, which they hope to debut early this
year, in conjunction with local organisations that will be
active in the programming and, presumably, in bringing
their own audience. In this model, the theatre functions
as an umbrella for regular themed programming, identi-
fied with different voices of society. Expanding the offer-
ings and broadening the potential audience go hand-in-
hand.
To see how this sort of thing might work, you can
look to the successful ‘Svartir sunnudagar’
(“Black Sundays”) series which began just
after Halloween. It features weekly cult
classics and curios, with a pre-show
programme of far-out trailers. ‘Black
Sundays’ is now working on locking
down heady genre movies like Clint
Eastwood’s elemental Western ‘High
Plains Drifter,’ Henri-Georges Clou-
zot’s existential truck-driving thriller
‘The Wages of Fear,’ and Hitchcock’s
‘Psycho’ for January.
The series is curated by the afore-
mentioned Páll Óskar, TV performer and
producer and former HAM guitarist Sigurjón
Kjartansson, author Sjón, and artist Hugleikur Dags-
son. Ásgrímur explains that these artistic luminaries had
been griping on Facebook about the unadventurous film
programming at Bíó Paradís so the theatre decided to
offer them the chance to show the movies they'd like to
see.
This consistent, colourful curatorial voice has proven
effective in establishing a regular presence in the cul-
tural life of Reykjavík. The original posters Bíó Paradís
displays for each Black Sunday title, designed by local
artists “who do it for the fun,” draw eyes, and estab-
lish the series as the ongoing endeavour of enthusiastic
people with creative taste. Ásgrímur hopes to arrange
an exhibition of all the Black Sundays posters in spring.

FILM IS DEAD;
LONG LIVE CINEMA
American studios are phasing out celluloid entirely,
preferring digital exhibition for both new releases and,
increasingly, their archival titles. This has distressing im-
plications for repertory cinema in the United States—it
bodes ill for the continued preservation, circulation and
exhibition of much of film history—but it’s also one of
many technological advances bringing the rest of the
world to Iceland’s doorstep. Ásgrímur is hopeful that
the theatre will soon be installing projection equipment
for the new DCP (Digital Cinema Package) format. As of
right now, he says, “most of the time we have to come up
with the disc ourselves.”
Other concerns about securing a cultural pres-
ence for classic film remain: the theatre is currently
experimenting with ‘Þrjúbió’ (“three o’clock”) screen-
ings—having put on a couple of Charlie Chaplin after-
noons—hearkening back to adolescent matinees. When
programming for a younger audience, there’s still a kind
of national isolation as movies must be dubbed or sub-
titled in Icelandic; and for young moviegoers as well as
old, figuring out what will draw crowds is still a matter of
trial and error. “So basically,” Ásgrímur concludes, “the
entire cinema is a trial period.” - MARK ASCH
22 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 1 — 2013CINEMA
If You Screen It… With new programmes
in full swing and more in the works, Bíó Paradís invents
its audience
Visit www.bioparadis.is to see what’s on!
“
„
The pop star Páll Óskar, for
instance, is said to have per-
haps the largest collection of
35mm film prints in Iceland.
Hörður Sveinsson
Bíó Paradís Programme Director, Ásgrímur Sverrisson.