In 2004, a young Estonian gets strong-armed into serving as a mule to smuggle drugs into Iceland, and, in a based-on-a-true-story example of fate sending him spiraling to his doom, Mikhel finds himself unable to deliver the goods ("It's like concrete in my a__").
Ironically, Mikhel (Pääru Oja) has been thrust into this horrible situation by his lifelong friend Igor (Kaspar Velberg), who is involved with corrupt and ruthless church officials who tell Mikhel he must swallow or else.
We see snippets of Mikhel and Igor's early lives together, where they hail from the sandy banks of an idyllic body of water. In this world, Mikhel is the lucky one, coming from a loving, intact family, while Igor is far less fortunate, lacking a mom and subjected to a violent dad.
This film is particularly powerful in the way it sets a grim personal story against the majestic backdrop of Iceland, taking us from the glittering streets of Reykjavík to more obscure locations in the eastern fjords. As Mikhel's situation worsens, somehow the landscape of Iceland, starting out as exquisitely pristine, becomes colder, more raw, and scarily forbidding. What a feat of cinematography!
This movie was screened last night as part of the New Nordic Cinema series at New York City's Scandinavia House. It far outshone, in my view, the series' previous offering, "A Woman at War," despite a good part of its action transpiring in the less geographically compelling Estonia. (We learn here that Iceland had been the first country to recognize Estonia's sovereignty upon its breaking off from the Soviet Union. As Mikhel's father had explained to him at the time, "No one else stands up to the Russians.") We witness Mikhel's parents throwing a party for the occasion; Igor's Russian dad kicks his boy across the room.
I am a great lover of Iceland, which I visit each winter, and its archaic language. Though much of the dialogue here is spoken in Estonian or English, there is still a lot of Icelandic to try to discern. I particularly enjoyed snippets spoken by Lilja, young daughter of the drug-addled character Bobo (Tomas LeMarquis); she spoke slowly and simply enough that I could sometimes understand. (A few lines from this film that I could discern: "Goða nótt, elska mín" -- Good night, my love; "ég veit ekki" -- I don't know; and "Keyri!" -- Drive! At one point, bad guy Johann (Atli Rafn Sigurðsson), smeared with Mikhel's blood, says he must "skipt föt" -- change clothes. The movie's Icelandic title means "Under the Comet."
This movie generates great tension as it approaches its climax, becoming difficult to watch. I groaned aloud a few times, to my surprise. We're pained to hear Mikhel ask Igor for a decent funeral in Estonia. (Yeah, from these circumstances, right!) Not being familiar with the news story of 15 years ago, the audience hopes that Mikhel will somehow pull through, even if he must go to the hospital and accept one of Iceland's famously brief prison sentences.
Ultimately Mikhel blames Igor for thrusting him into this soul-crushing situation. "I only asked if you wanted to make some real money," Igor replies, never entirely owning up to his actions. Later, as we observe Igor's solitary walk along one of Iceland's surf-smashing shores, we wonder if he'll follow in his self-destructive father's footsteps.
I had not been familiar with director Ari Alexander Ergis Magnússon, but "Mikhel" leaves me eager to see anything else that he's created. This is a tour de force!
Ironically, Mikhel (Pääru Oja) has been thrust into this horrible situation by his lifelong friend Igor (Kaspar Velberg), who is involved with corrupt and ruthless church officials who tell Mikhel he must swallow or else.
We see snippets of Mikhel and Igor's early lives together, where they hail from the sandy banks of an idyllic body of water. In this world, Mikhel is the lucky one, coming from a loving, intact family, while Igor is far less fortunate, lacking a mom and subjected to a violent dad.
This film is particularly powerful in the way it sets a grim personal story against the majestic backdrop of Iceland, taking us from the glittering streets of Reykjavík to more obscure locations in the eastern fjords. As Mikhel's situation worsens, somehow the landscape of Iceland, starting out as exquisitely pristine, becomes colder, more raw, and scarily forbidding. What a feat of cinematography!
This movie was screened last night as part of the New Nordic Cinema series at New York City's Scandinavia House. It far outshone, in my view, the series' previous offering, "A Woman at War," despite a good part of its action transpiring in the less geographically compelling Estonia. (We learn here that Iceland had been the first country to recognize Estonia's sovereignty upon its breaking off from the Soviet Union. As Mikhel's father had explained to him at the time, "No one else stands up to the Russians.") We witness Mikhel's parents throwing a party for the occasion; Igor's Russian dad kicks his boy across the room.
I am a great lover of Iceland, which I visit each winter, and its archaic language. Though much of the dialogue here is spoken in Estonian or English, there is still a lot of Icelandic to try to discern. I particularly enjoyed snippets spoken by Lilja, young daughter of the drug-addled character Bobo (Tomas LeMarquis); she spoke slowly and simply enough that I could sometimes understand. (A few lines from this film that I could discern: "Goða nótt, elska mín" -- Good night, my love; "ég veit ekki" -- I don't know; and "Keyri!" -- Drive! At one point, bad guy Johann (Atli Rafn Sigurðsson), smeared with Mikhel's blood, says he must "skipt föt" -- change clothes. The movie's Icelandic title means "Under the Comet."
This movie generates great tension as it approaches its climax, becoming difficult to watch. I groaned aloud a few times, to my surprise. We're pained to hear Mikhel ask Igor for a decent funeral in Estonia. (Yeah, from these circumstances, right!) Not being familiar with the news story of 15 years ago, the audience hopes that Mikhel will somehow pull through, even if he must go to the hospital and accept one of Iceland's famously brief prison sentences.
Ultimately Mikhel blames Igor for thrusting him into this soul-crushing situation. "I only asked if you wanted to make some real money," Igor replies, never entirely owning up to his actions. Later, as we observe Igor's solitary walk along one of Iceland's surf-smashing shores, we wonder if he'll follow in his self-destructive father's footsteps.
I had not been familiar with director Ari Alexander Ergis Magnússon, but "Mikhel" leaves me eager to see anything else that he's created. This is a tour de force!