Reykjavík Grapevine - 09.10.2015, Síða 14

Grown-Up Fairytales:
On the set of
Elvar Gunnarsson’s ‘Mara’
14 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 16 — 2015
We roll up the gravel path, wheels kick-
ing up scree into the fading summer air.
The sun is working its way west. Dusk
has started to gnaw at the top of the
misty, rolling hills of the valley.
A faint, blood-orange smog creeps
across the sky. You roll down the win-
dow, but close it quickly again, the dust
hot in your nose and eyes. Across the
way, a salmon lake stands, near-drained
in parts, the faint silhouettes of fisher-
men standing solitary in the wash.
The guesthouse, our last refuge of
warmth and supplies, fades into the
shadows of the northern foothills—its
security light a star, standing to attention
in the small solar system of those dotted
across the rest of the valley.
There are no lights here, no path to
follow. Once night falls upon this place—
a sweet, velvet darkness—all bets are off.
The cliffs grow up around you like the
walls of an ancient fort. The moon glares
from the south upon the mouth of the
valley—your one way in, your one way
out.
The house, a particularly Evil Dead
number, rolls into view. Creaking, rusty
orange iron is punctuated by a kitchen
window swinging in the wind, smack-
ing into its dark, wooden frame. A large
lighting rig and curtain cling to a side
window in the growing tumult.
The nearest main road is a 2.5km hike
away. Water is already in short supply.
Did I forget anything…? Two crew mem-
bers fiddle with camera rails and filters.
A dog howls in the distance.
We have arrived.
“A horror film is really
just about fucking with
people.”
When I recount my last horror film ex-
perience to Elvar Gunnarsson, the di-
rector, writer, and cinematographer of
‘Mara’, he laughs. Thanks to his near-
encyclopaedic knowledge of the genre,
he immediately knows which film I’m
talking about. “Oh yeah, [Peter Jackson’s]
‘Braindead’,” he grins. “The lawnmower,
right?” He seems to know a suspicious
amount of horror trivia for a horror di-
rector, writer, and cinematographer. I
pursue this.
“I have never directed a horror movie
before,” Elvar admits, leaning back into a
large wingback armchair. Dry ice from
the previous scene permeates the air.
“But when I was growing up, me and my
sister weren’t allowed to watch Disney
films. We weren’t allowed to watch fairy-
tales with a happy ending. That was not
allowed. So having not experienced all
these fairytales and normal things that
kids usually grow up with, I watched a
lot of horror. That, and a lot of Hitchcock.
These films talked to me as if they were
talking to a kid, because I was a kid when
I saw them.”
‘Mara’ tells the story of an earnest
young couple who have returned to
Iceland from the US in order to live the
American dream and open an Airbnb
hostel in The Beautiful Icelandic Coun-
tryside. Upon their arrival, however,
things quickly take a turn for the fucked-
up. After the male lead, Pétur (Gunnar
Kristinsson), discovers a mysterious
hole in the cellar, his wife Mira (Vivian
Ólafsdóttir, in her feature-length debut)
is haunted by devastating night terrors.
One morning, she wakes up pregnant
with what seems to be an extremely rap-
idly growing baby—or so it would seem.
That’s where the fun begins.
It’s hardly Disney, but the story might
have more in common with those fables
than you’d expect from a horror film.
As Elvar argues, “I think ‘Mara’ really
is a story about growing up and becom-
ing an adult—accepting that you have to
take some kind of responsibility, and act
according to those responsibilities,” El-
var explains. “Even though it’s set up as
a horror movie, with devilish creatures
and an Alien-like egg, I think that’s re-
ally what’s at the core of the story. While
these elements would normally make
more of a B-movie, we’re trying to make
something slick.”
Slick? Like, with blood?
“It’s kind of like watching one of [Da-
vid] Cronenberg’s '80s movies. His films
were so absurd, but so slick, you know?”
Elvar exclaims, enthusiastically. “For
the average viewer, you’d just kind of
have to believe what you were seeing be-
cause it was so slick and well-made. Like,
take ‘Scanners’. Most of the film is quite
normal—I mean, apart from the explod-
ing head and people catching fire for no
reason and stuff like that—but it’s actu-
ally telling quite a normal story in quite a
normal way.
“That’s kind of what we’re trying to
do. If you were to read through the script,
it would probably read like that sort of
80s movie, but thanks to the freedom the
genre gives you, the film has a very defi-
Killing Your Darlings With
A Lawnmower To The Face
Words by Ciarán Daly Photos by Art Bicnick
Despite possessing a desolate landscape, long winters, and
prominent bodysnatcher demographic (sorry, Alþingi), Ice-
land is not really a landmark when it comes to horror mov-
ies—even though it certainly seems like the kind of place
that should be. Thanks to a burgeoning national cinema,
though, the country might just be about to smack intes-
tines-first straight into the horror buff’s world map. Enter
‘Mara’ (“Mare”), a new, independent Icelandic horror film
that’s looking to make waves in the world’s oceans of blood.
‘Mara’ is slated for a 2016 release. You can follow
the film’s progress on its self-titled Facebook page.