Director Guðmundur Arnar Guðmundsson
HEARTSTONE (Hjartasteinn) B
Iceland Denmark (129 mi)
2016 ‘Scope d: Guðmundur
Arnar Guðmundsson
A rather sprawling first-time feature film by a young Icelandic
director, Guðmundur Arnar Guðmundsson, winner of the Q Award for Best Gay, LGBT-themed
film, who previously made a series of award winning shorts, including ÁRTÚN,
which won the Best Narrative short film at the Chicago Film Festival in 2014, focusing
this time on the relationship of two 14-year old boys that have been friends
since an early age, the more diminutive Thor (Baldur Einarsson), whose father is absent, the runt of the litter living
at home with a single mother and two older sisters, and the taller Kristján (Blær
Hinriksson), who is living with a physically abusive father. No easy life for either of them, as the film
provides intimate details about their lives growing up in a remote fishing
village in Iceland. Much of it spent
outdoors in the rolling hills next to the sea, the boys are part of a
generational hierarchy led by an older boy, Ginger (Sveinn Sigurbjörnsson), who
is little more than a bully, running around with a group of enforcers where he
continually picks on boys younger than him.
In an opening moment he can be seen shooting birds for the sheer
pleasure of it, leaving them to rot afterwards.
This act is paralleled by another scene with the two boys hanging with a
group their own age, where they are singling out a certain fish, bullrouts,
calling them ugly, and then stomping them to death, creating a pervasive mood
of meaningless aggression. These
seemingly tiny acts are contrasted by the largesse of the Icelandic landscape,
beautifully captured by cinematographer Sturla Brandth Grøvlen, as looming out
the window or off in the distance is a unique mix of mountains meeting the sea,
where the harshness of the land seems to mirror the temperament of the older
men, who tend to be stubborn, gruff, and at times painfully cruel. No one represents this more than Kristján’s
abusive father, Sigurdur (Sveinn Ólafur Gunnarsson), who terrorizes his
wife and family, where his mean streak is a sign of his masculinity, in his
eyes, as nothing ever comes easy, where you have to work your fingers to the
bone just to survive this heartless world.
Thor and Kristján
have it different, as they have each other’s backs and have been best friends
forever, where if you ever see one of them, the other is likely to be with him,
as they are an inseparable pair, spending all their time together. Their parents don’t seem to mind, as that’s
less they have to look after, as the boys can seemingly take care of
themselves, always off on some adventure, heading for the hills and faraway
corners of the region, idly exploring something around town, hanging out with
others, chasing after farm animals, or just generally following their
curiosity, where they have plenty of time to talk about anything at all. At home, Thor is surrounded by the presence
of strong women, something he can’t fully appreciate, as his older sister Hafdís
(Rán Ragnarsdóttir) recites dark and melancholic poetry at morning breakfast, where the more outspoken middle sister
Rakel (Jónína Þórdís Karlsdóttir) tells her to just shoot herself already
and get it over with. All three gang up
on their mother Hulda (Nína Dögg Filippusdóttir) when she has designs on a man,
as the general consensus is she’s better off without them, but if truth be
told, they don’t get a vote. Hulda
remains young and attractive, especially for the region, where one of the
neighbors, Sven (Søren Malling), has a thing for her, handing Thor a necklace
to give to his mother, something he wouldn’t be caught dead doing, instead
giving it to his own girlfriend Beta (Diljá Valsdóttir) as a sign of going
steady, while her less attractive girlfriend Hanna (Katla Njálsdóttir) has
designs on Kristján, but only
because she thinks she’s supposed to, as there’s no real chemistry between
them. Nonetheless they constantly double
date, have their first kiss, spend time alone, even try sex, with Beta kind of
pushing the action with Thor, which he willingly follows, while Kristján, who
is tall and attractive, does his best not to be impolite to Hanna.
The interest in
the girls eventually changes the dynamic between both boys, especially when
Kristján playfully plants a kiss on Thor’s mouth, trying to pretend that it’s
meaningless, a harmless joke, but it’s clear there’s more behind it, sending
both into a tailspin of avoidance, where a mysterious gulf comes between them,
neither one able to verbalize what they’re thinking, where a cloud continues to
silently hang over both of them. As if
to test their mettle, Sigurdur decides to take these boys on an ominous
mission, hiking quite a ways before they reach the edge of a steep cliff, where
one boy will be lowered by rope on a harness to collect eggs from the vertical sea
stacks, that appear like high-rise apartments stacked up on top of one another
in the high cliffs rising out of the sea, with thousands of swarming birds
living in the cracks on the rocks, a dangerous and life-threatening mission for
men at any age, but for boys, it foolishly and deliberately risks their lives,
with Sigurdur asking Thor to take the trek, almost as if that’s one way to get
rid of him. While it’s spectacular
imagery, anyone who’s ever witnessed one of these bird sanctuaries realizes how
foolhardy this must be, but if anything, it only brings the two boys closer
together afterwards, as it’s a harrowing, near-death experience. Perhaps in shame, that he could never carry
off such a risky maneuver himself, Kristján, in an impulsive moment, apparently
tries to shoot himself, but miraculously survives. After returning home from extensive hospital
care in Reykjavík, his family refuses to allow Thor anywhere near their
son. There’s a price to be paid in small
towns for close friendships, as people in town gossip and carry on as if they
have nothing better to do, where these two boys are taunted and tormented, even
shunned by those their own age, including the two girls, who refuse to speak to
them. With Kristján secluded offscreen,
where Thor has to wonder what in the hell he did to deserve being exiled in his
own community, the emotional anguish and social isolation is overwhelming, as
there is literally nothing he can do to change people’s opinions, reminiscent
of that early scene where a fish was singled out and labeled ugly before it was
stomped to death. People grow up
harboring ugly thoughts about anyone or anything that’s different, where
especially in small towns, it can drive some kids to suicide. The poetic finale is filled with the turmoil
of confusion and anger, yet plays out with a unique tenderness that is an
essential thread throughout every friendship.
Showing great attention to detail, the film plays out in a languorous
pace, which doesn’t seem to fit the more adrenaline-paced world of kids this
age, yet the detached overall manner adds a timeless, near omniscient view, as
if the mountains and oceans and souls of the dead are all observing from a
distance.
Kristjan did not try to kill himself because he felt "in shame, that he could never carry off such a risky maneuver himself." He tried because he had such big feelings, ones he couldnt tell anyone. He feels so alone, esp even his best friend dismissing him. Its an LGBTQ storyline. Lets celebrate and honor this, not brush such a life changing event under the rug. <3
ReplyDeleteI agree with what you are saying, but shame is a particularly toxic ingredient of male identity and suicidal impulses, and Thor's heroic maneuvers on the cliff left him feeling small.
DeleteNo one is trying to brush away anyone's feelings, but part of the depths of his personal anguish in feeling unloved was the horror and shame of feeling less than a man, incomplete, broken, and damaged.
I think we may both be right here, as suicide is such a complicated issue, particularly mixed with scorned love.
Thank you for caring enough to add your comments.