Iceland review - 2015, Page 17

ICELAND REVIEW 15
10Q
1. As the Icelandic stand-up scene matures, are you becoming
more aware of its boundaries?
It has become really difficult to be a stand-up comedian,
or an artist, because everyone is watching out for negative
jokes. And that is difficult, because you can’t ignore it, but
still you have to be free to tell whatever you want. Most
jokes are supposed to be on the edge.

2. Do you feel that you’re taking risks with your stand-up?
My favorite joke from my last set was about the [Þjóðhátíð]
music festival in Vestmannaeyjar, and what happens is that
usually a lot of women get raped. It was about being in the
rapist’s mind, when he’s making a decision about whether
he should go to see some band perform, or go to rape a girl.
Either it got laughs, or it didn’t… people get really afraid
when people mention hard subjects.

3. So you embrace the ‘problematic’?
You have to be able to talk about it. This festival is lovely in
every sense except this one, there is bad violence there every.
fucking. year. I think it’s really important that you’re allowed
to address it, and you don’t have to be afraid. I’m all for not
making fun of victims. But I think you should trust that
people don’t mean bad things all the time.
4. You were just in the RÚV sketch-comedy television show
Drekasvæðið with the comedy troupe Mið-Ísland. How was
it working with a comedy ensemble, rather than as a solo act?
Because I’ve been doing a lot of writing on my own, some-
times it’s so nice to be the actor. Somebody tells you, “I want
you to say these lines, and I want you to do it like this, and
in this costume.” And you’re just, “Yes.”
5. Is that natural for you, though?
I am constantly like, “Ok, but what if I do it like this, or
what if I do it like this, or we—it will be much funnier if I
do it like this!” And the director would say, “Saga, please,
you just have to let go and let me decide now. We can’t go
into a helicopter, we arranged this. We’re on a boat now. I
know it’d be more funny if we were on a helicopter, but it’s
too late.”
6. After you graduated from drama school, you got a place in
the company of the National Theater of Iceland, right?
I was really surprised I was asked, actually, because an
extremely tall and muscular woman is not a great thing for
a theater. Usually you want people that can be more flexi-
ble—small blonde girls are really useable.
7. How did that resolve itself?
My first role was actually some kind of male role. I’ve been
doing that a lot. My typecast is usually ‘young and eager
boys.’ Which I think is really interesting.
8. Bakk, your first feature film, is now in cinemas. How was
the experience of making it?
It was such a school for me, and such a relaxed, fun envi-
ronment. I realized: This is what I want to do … I don’t
need people screaming at each other, which happens a lot in
theater, because people are proving themselves all the time.
And of course I want to prove myself, but I want to do it in
a loving environment.
9. Do you feel like women of your generation have the same
opportunities for careers in the arts as men?
I think we’ve got really far. I don’t think anyone who has any
brain cells doubts that women are funny now, for instance.
But when women are getting paid less than men, then of
course we haven’t gotten where I want to be.
10. Where are the arts lacking?
The theater is always behind television … because it’s sup-
posed to be a sort of museum, at least here in Iceland. It
should also be trying to keep up to date, but I think in tel-
evision and in movies, people are a lot more aware of that,
and women’s roles are much broader and more interesting,
and it will be so awesome when we get that into the theater
as well. When people stop thinking, “A woman cannot play
King Lear.” Why not? The king is just a person, and can be
a queen as well. *
Saga Garðarsdóttir is a comic in Iceland’s burgeoning stand-up scene,
a playwright, and an actress. Mark Asch asks the 27-year-old ten questions
about her career, aspirations, and the arts.
PHOTO BY HARI.