Iceland review - 2016, Page 26
24 ICELAND REVIEW
stereotypical man. This is something we
connect with old Iceland, while the mod-
ern man is supposed to open up and talk
about his feelings.” Rúnar doesn’t believe
these men are particularly Icelandic in
character, though. “When I was on the
road with Volcano, people saw their dads
and granddads in Hannes in the most
unlikely countries on all continents.”
However, Gunnar’s drinking problem
is something many Icelanders, particu-
larly Icelandic men, are familiar with.
Rúnar points out that on September 30,
the day before the Iceland première of
Sparrows at RIFF, SÁÁ (National Center
of Addiction Medicine) released startling
statistics. “One in every 13 Icelanders
seeks treatment for alcoholism at some
point in their lives, and one in every
ten men—and that’s excluding everyone
who should go to rehab but doesn’t!” He
speculates whether the problem can part-
ly be blamed on the 74-year beer ban,
which wasn’t lifted until 1989. “When
you ‘learn’ how to drink with vodka and
moonshine, it can’t go well,” he says.
“Icelanders tend to take everything one
step too far.”
While Rúnar’s subjects are serious, his
films are not without humor. He says
he usually writes more jokes to begin
with but ends up crossing most out of
the screenplays. While few were left in
Volcano, Sparrows has a bit more comic
relief. “The best Chaplin pictures are
highly dramatic, like one of my favorite
films, City Lights, but also laugh out loud
funny,” Rúnar points out. “Laughter and
crying are never far apart. On all the days
that I have lost somebody, I probably
laughed too. It doesn’t mean that I didn’t
feel sad. It was necessary to keep this
story [Sparrows] balanced, too, and to
include humor.” One of the funny scenes
features Ari and his friend Bassi secretly
checking each other out in the showers at
the swimming pool. “Women do it too!
Women think much more about what
other women look like than what men
do,” Rúnar laughs. “It’s interesting to
observe how humor translates between
countries. So far, we’ve screened the film
in Canada, Spain and Iceland. In Canada
people laughed, but not as much in
Spain. In Iceland, some scenes caused fits
of laughter. Of course some of the jokes
reference Icelandic reality.”
FERTILE FILM SCENE AND HAPPY
ENDINGS
Rúnar is not the only Icelandic director
to boast big achievements in 2015. His
childhood friend Grímur Hákonarson’s
Rams was awarded at Cannes, among
other festivals; Baltasar Kormákur’s
Everest opened the Venice Film Festival;
and Dagur Kári’s Virgin Mountain (Fúsi)
took home three awards from Tribeca
and won the Nordic Council’s Film
Prize. On winning the main prize at
San Sebastián, Rúnar comments: “It was
fantastic to hit that jackpot,” explaining
that it will open doors, and not only for
himself. “Icelandic filmmaking is on a
major roll … but it has taken us a long
time to get there,” he states. “When one
is successful, all are successful. We’re
just a small country dependent on col-
laborations with other countries. If one
Icelandic film is doing well, it makes
funding for other Icelandic films easier.”
When asked about future projects,
Rúnar says he’s currently writing. “I’m
very productive these days but I haven’t
yet determined what the next project
will be. I’m waiting excitedly for it to
present itself. It’s a long journey. I swing
between ideas and have to feel confi-
dent.” Anticipation is already building
for Rúnar’s next film. “I’ve been asked
whether I’m going to start shooting
again tomorrow. But I tend to take my
time.” As to whether viewers can expect
another drama or something else, Rúnar
responds: “Never say never, and of course
there are elements of thrillers and come-
dies in most stories, but I don’t envision
myself ever making genre films, like an
action movie or just a comedy.”
Covering the human aspect is where
Rúnar is in his element. To him, Sparrows
is a beautiful story. “There’s no light
without shadow,” he says. “The main
character has gone through a certain
path of hindrances and you’re supposed
to get the feeling that he has done the
right thing and not be too concerned
about him—he will manage. The last
frame is supposed to show an act of
forgiveness,” he reveals. “Generally with
endings, I try to keep in mind that time
flows endlessly. When telling the stories
of people, you enter a certain period
in their lives and follow them. Things
happened before that point in time and
their lives will continue after the story
ends—there will continue to be rain and
shine. Therefore, the fairest thing to do
is not to end the story in too much light,
make it too much of a happy ending. But
not in pitch black darkness either. Life is
more of a gray scale.” *
FILM
FILM
From Sparrows.