METALHEAD (Málmhaus) A-
Iceland (97 mi) 2013
‘Scope d: Ragnar Bragason Official
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Flesh and blood
into the ground
returned
Destroyer born
Everything will burn
Scorched earth
Swallows the best of
us
Scorched earth
annihilates the rest
of us
Agony in pained defeat
A toast of sand so
dark and sweet
As far as the eye can
reach
Snow engulfs the
fields
As far as the eye can
reach
The snow will never
yield
A small gem of a film from Iceland, one that resonates on
far deeper levels than one might presume, and raising eyebrows in the
process. While the title and movie
poster suggest some kind of homage to a 70’s music group like Kiss,
the film itself moves in a completely different direction, becoming a portrait
of youthful alienation in an isolated rural setting of a smalltown family
farm. Opening with a tragic farming
accident, 12-year old Hera witnesses the startling death of her older brother
Baldur, leaving behind an inexplicable void that haunts every frame of the rest
of the picture. But rather than dwell on
typical stages of grief and loss, this well-written film uses deadpan humor to
great effect, becoming an absurdist road movie about a rebellious teenager Hera
(Thorbjὃrg Helga Thorgilsdόttir) who always dreams of leaving home and heading
for the city, spending the better part of her life talking about it, but
somehow never goes through with it, despite multiple attempts, where one of the
lingering images of the film is seeing her sitting alone at a bus stop, a lone
outpost in the vast emptiness of the region, often remaining there even after
the bus passes, remaining stuck in the claustrophobic confines of a
conservative smalltown family and community that embraces her, even as she
utterly rejects them. In a wordless
sequence that jumps forward a few years, Hera burns all her old clothes and
instead grabs a few metal T-shirts like Slayer and Megadeth from Baldur’s room,
that remains exactly as it was throughout, like a shrine to his existence. Leaving her own identity behind, she instead
immerses herself in Baldur’s black leather jacket and his electric guitar,
playing his favorite metal music at disturbingly high volumes, expressing her thoughts
on the matter, “They say time heals all wounds.
That’s utter bullshit.”
Reverberating with defiance and dissatisfaction, the film is an
expression of her refusal to conform, a headstrong character continually seen
butting heads with her parents and neighbors, who are often seen bringing her
home, passed out in a state of intoxication, usually with one of their tractors
missing which she appropriated for one of her midnight joy rides. As much a comment on the uniqueness of the
region as her own state of mind, the secondary characters are all equally well
sketched out, especially her own parents, the quietly stoic and mild-mannered
milk farmer Karl (Ingvar Eggert Sigurðsson) and his devoted wife Droplaug (Halldóra
Geirharðsdóttir), both of whom suffer in silence with a kind of muted
dysfunction.
Seemingly on the road to nowhere, Hera remains emotionally
trapped and conflicted, caught between the life that took her brother and her
own inability to strike out on her own for fear of losing whatever connection still
exists between them. But more than any
character, the true subject and most outstanding feature of the film is Iceland
itself, beautifully shot by August Jakobsson, particularly wide-angled shots
that extend to distant horizons, revealing a mountainous, snow-filled landscape
that couldn’t express more natural beauty.
Interesting, then, that much of this was achieved through special
effects, as seen here, Metalhead Visual Effects YouTube
(3:21). As improbable as it may seem to
many, filling the endless expanse with Judas Priest and Dio blasting away from
her tape deck, while composing a raw version of her own song, featuring
blood-curdling screams to the startled cows while amped up at full blast in the
barn for a truly primitive sounding recording, Svarthamar Demo OST - YouTube
(5:42), it works better than expected, as it’s a tribute to the glory days of
metal bands like Riot, Teaze, Savatage, Lizzy Borden, Judas Priest, and
Megadeth, whose anguish perfectly expresses Hera’s own silent rage. In a Scandinavian nod to Ingmar Bergman, it
seems every scene shot in the cold stillness of frozen farmlands is beautifully
juxtaposed against the inner grief tormenting Hera and her family. Winner of eight Icelandic Film Awards
(nominated for 17 awards), including Best Actress, Best Supporting Actor and
Actress, Best Editing, and Original Score, the film was at least partially inspired
by the Norwegian black metal church
burnings in the 1990’s, where a wave of arson attacks against Christian
churches resulted in at least 50 church burnings by 1996, nearly all attributed
to followers of black metal who bitterly opposed Christianity and organized
religion as a whole. Without delving
into any historical reference, the film incorporates this sentiment into the
much simpler times of a country town in Iceland in the late 80’s and early
1990’s, starting quite slowly, but eventually picking up the pace, allowing the
viewers to identify with the characters. Thorgilsdόttir as Hera is especially
outstanding, particularly the way she earns the audience’s sympathies despite
behaving despicably throughout, regularly playing mean-spirited juvenile
pranks, continually ostracizing her parents, making their lives a living hell, where
we feel her pain and don’t-give-a-fuck ambivalence while relying upon the
friendship and kind support of her somewhat devoted childhood best friend
Knutur (Hannes Oli Agustsson), a fellow metal aficionado, though in utter
exasperation he finally confesses near the end that he has always hated
Dio.
With characters damaged by the remoteness of their
surroundings, Hera is at odds with the people and the place where they live,
where everything feels too ordinary and small for her. While essentially a film of Hera’s personal
struggles, the film also adds insightful details to her parent’s issues with
intimacy, where their son’s death has become an unspoken wedge between them,
eventually finding a way to turn the page, which may come as something of a
surprise considering their daughter’s continued recalcitrance. They continually remain a part of the town
through regular church visits and community social functions, where the
presence of a new young priest, Janus (Sveinn Ólafur Gunnarson), acts to help
facilitate this change. For Hera,
however, she feels betrayed, especially after he opens up to her and
acknowledges his own metal past, suggesting “God can also be found in the
dark,” displaying a particular affection for Iron Maiden, Venom, and Celtic
Frost. She proceeds to see him
differently, however, misunderstanding his helpfulness for something more
personal, precipitating a full-scale rage against God that has deep-seeded
ramifications, including a church burning.
Alone against the world, carrying the burden of her brother’s soul along
with her, she goes on an existential quest for meaning, a surprising odyssey
into the mystifying elements of ice and snow that takes on surreal
implications, where she seems to hit a wall of resistance, realizing she can
simply go no further, as if to surmise rebellion isn’t enough. In an awkward and uncomfortable moment, she
does the unthinkable, failing to move on to the city, as everyone suspects, as
this would be the opportune time, instead retreating back home to the hushed
stares of everyone. This is a
particularly telling moment, as she is who she is, troubled and defiantly
aggressive, a problem child that belongs to the entire community at large,
where no one knows what to do with her, especially her family, though there is
an unspoken feeling of forgiveness and reconciliation. What does transpire is completely unexpected,
where out of the blue some adoring Norwegian metalheads arrive on her family’s
doorstep after hearing a tape of her music, something they describe as
“wickedly evil,” but meant in the best possible light. Their genuine interest revives her own sagging
spirit, helping to rebuild a community that Hera herself has broken, and in
what is perhaps the scene of the film joins Hera in playing a concert before
the entire town, where the faces of all the musicians are painted except Hera,
who stands before everyone in a confessional moment of rage, with piercing screams
and cries of agony, before toning it down into Björk-like poetry, malmhaus
scene YouTube (4:16), a dark revelatory moment where mood says it all, that
brilliantly brings together all the feelings of pain, anguish and insurmountable
loss, where music becomes an outlet for healing. For all the gloominess and sad melancholy that
pervades throughout this picture, like an incessant stormcloud hanging
overhead, there’s also an equal amount of gentle wit and wry humor, and while
plunging into the inexplicable depths of how people react when dealing with grief
and tragic loss, it’s a unique, beautifully told coming-of-age story that
provides a personalized, firsthand glimpse into rebellious and ostracized
youth.
Director
Ragnar Bragason Lists Top Five Metal Songs ... Revolver
magazine, March 31, 2015
Winner of 8 awards at the 2014 Icelandic Film Awards,
‘Metalhead,’ is a film directed by Ragnar Bragason that follows a young
Icelandic girl whose love for metal stems from witnessing the gruesome death of
her metalhead brother. Her passion for metal only deepens as she gets older,
despite facing alienation from her community and family who remain in shambles
following their son’s death.
Bragason picks his Top Five Songs that appear in the movie.
1. Judas Priest,
“Victim of Changes”
“From ‘Sad Wings of Destiny.’ A key moment in the history of metal and a key song in the film. That piercing scream by Halford still resonates after 40 years. A film titled ‘Metalhead’ can’t be without a Judas Priest track.”
“From ‘Sad Wings of Destiny.’ A key moment in the history of metal and a key song in the film. That piercing scream by Halford still resonates after 40 years. A film titled ‘Metalhead’ can’t be without a Judas Priest track.”
2. Savatage’s
“Strange Wings”
“From ‘The Hall of the Mountain King.’ A great song but often overlooked because of the number of exceptional songs on that album. When writing the script, I was looking for a song that reflected the main character, her alienation and uniqueness–both in feel and lyrics. Opening line is, ‘She is a native of the stormy skies.’ A great opening riff by the late Criss Oliva.”
“From ‘The Hall of the Mountain King.’ A great song but often overlooked because of the number of exceptional songs on that album. When writing the script, I was looking for a song that reflected the main character, her alienation and uniqueness–both in feel and lyrics. Opening line is, ‘She is a native of the stormy skies.’ A great opening riff by the late Criss Oliva.”
3. Lizzy Borden’s “Me
Against the World”
“An ’80s classic for sure. Originally I intended to use ‘I Wanna Be Somebody’ by W.A.S.P, but got a refusal from Blackie Lawless on the grounds that the story of the film, or the events depicted, didn’t adhere to his current religious believes–which I thought was quite funny. So I went with my other choice and it fits perfectly to the story.”
“An ’80s classic for sure. Originally I intended to use ‘I Wanna Be Somebody’ by W.A.S.P, but got a refusal from Blackie Lawless on the grounds that the story of the film, or the events depicted, didn’t adhere to his current religious believes–which I thought was quite funny. So I went with my other choice and it fits perfectly to the story.”
4. Riot’s “Run for
Your Life”
“From ‘Restless Breed,’ which is one of my all-time favorite metal albums. Riot were the U.S. equivalent to the NWOBHM, a kick ass band that doesn’t fully get the respect they deserve. The scene where Hera frees the hoard of sheep in the slaughterhouse needed a fast galloping song, and the choice was between this one and ‘Run To The Hills’ by Iron Maiden.”
“From ‘Restless Breed,’ which is one of my all-time favorite metal albums. Riot were the U.S. equivalent to the NWOBHM, a kick ass band that doesn’t fully get the respect they deserve. The scene where Hera frees the hoard of sheep in the slaughterhouse needed a fast galloping song, and the choice was between this one and ‘Run To The Hills’ by Iron Maiden.”
5. Megadeth’s
“Symphony of Destruction”
“From ‘Countdown to Extinction.’ I wanted a song that
represented the year the film ends on, 1992 to be exact. I also wanted a song
by one of the original thrash bands and that specific song was perfect for the
final scene of the film. It has a great riff and hook that plays perfectly to
the emotional release I was going for.”
