Reykjavík Grapevine - mar. 2021, Blaðsíða 22

The Art Of Makin%
A Stand
‘A Son! Called Hate’ shows Hatari emer!in!
stron!er from their Eurovision maelstrom
Words: John Pearson Photo: Film Still & Art Bicnick
Films
‘A Song Called Hate’ is showing at
Bióhúsi" in Selfoss on March 18th,
and at Al&'"uhúsi" in Ísafjör"ur on
April 1st, with a director Q&A at both
If you live in Iceland the chances
are that you’ll know Hatari. If not,
they may well have gatecrashed
your consciousness in 2019 when
they represented Iceland at Eu-
rovision in Israel—and lobbed a
cheeky agitprop grenade right into
the heart of the world’s biggest pop
competition.
Hatari used the platform to de-
nounce Israel’s treatment of Pal-
estinians. Their protest, in which
they revealed Palestinian flags on
live TV during the Eurovision fi-
nals, was seen by some 200 million
people around the world. This prin-
cipled stand—and the maelstrom it
provoked—are at the core of Anna
Hildur Hildibrandsdóttir’s power-
ful documentary, ‘A Song Called
Hate’.
Cutting through to the
mainstream
At first glance, Hatari might ap-
pear to be a joke; as artist Ragnar
Kjartansson comments in the
film, “most art projects are basi-
cally jokes gone too far.” As if to ad-
dress that idea, the film opens with
Hatari lynchpins Matthías and
Klemens trading phrases which
might describe their multifaceted
creative project.
“Hatari is a lament that is
screamed into the wind,” Matthías
articulates. “Hatari is a relentless
scam,” deadpans Klemens in re-
sponse.
“Hatari is a fabulously unpre-
dictable, anti-capitalist, industrial,
art performance collective,” Anna
Hildur offers, when later invited to
add her perspective. “Although to
some degree, they are indescrib-
able.”
And she would know, having
already made a TV documentary
about them before their Eurovision
journey began. ‘A Song Called Hate’
built on that existing relationship.
“I wanted to make a film about
the art of making a stand,” she
continues. “But my question was,
‘would Hatari cut through to the
mainstream?’ It was a huge task
that they took on.”
Palestinian pressure
cooker
When they arrived in Israel, Ha-
tari’s friend and collaborator—Pal-
estinian artist Bashar Murad—
showed them around his world in
the West Bank town of Hebron. It
is one of armed occupation and a
lack of basic freedoms for Pales-
tinians. Although he is clearly an
ally, on-camera Bashar puts pres-
sure on Hatari for greater commit-
ment to their protest. Adding to
this, pro-Palestinian movement
BDS lobbied the band to boycott Eu-
rovision—rather
than attend and
p r o t e s t — a n d
Hatari’s open
talk of dissent
pr ov o k e d i n -
tense pressure
from Eurovision
organisers, right
from the start.
The film cap-
tures the mo-
ments of stress
and self-doubt
wh ich res u lt ,
showing the Ha-
tari mask slip-
ping as they step
out of character.
A n n a H i l d u r
thinks that this
was a decision made out of neces-
sity, rather than a premeditated
move on the part of the band.
“Out there, the pressure be-
came immense,” says Anna Hildur.
“They were on the brink of exhaus-
tion and the reality was that they
just needed a break from time to
time to collect their thoughts. So
I think that what they discovered
out there, and the pressure of the
situation, made that decision for
them.”
In the film, that pressure cli-
maxes just after the group’s act of
protest, as individuals begin to re-
alise the gravity of what they have
just done and the resulting poten-
tial threat to their personal safety.
If Hatari had ever been a joke, in
that moment the joke isn’t funny
anymore.
“It was very raw and you see that
in the film,” Anna Hildur recalls.
“Some members of the group were
definitely going through a break-
down, and it affected everyone.”
Return & reflection
Having escaped Israel physically
unharmed—if not mentally—their
return to Iceland provided an op-
portunity for artists and filmmak-
ers to reflect on their experiences.
“It was strange reviewing mate-
rial after we got back,” says Anna
Hildur. “I relived some of the high-
pressure moments so strongly that
the tears just ran down my chin.
You don't have time when you’re
filming to take it in, but I realised
afterwards just how difficult the
journey was.”
Hatari also emerged from their
Eurovision maelstrom shaken, but
certainly stronger and wiser.
“Matthías said that this experi-
ence was something that cuts time
in two—a before, and an after,”
Anna Hildur concludes. “And as
he says in the film, ‘I've never taken
anything so far’. I think that, for all
of us who went through it, this was
a life-changing experience.”
The art of sitting on a flight case
Anna Hildur forgot her latex mask at home
Film
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