Film Notes

‘Godland’ (‘Vanskabte Land/Volada Land’): Film Review | Cannes 2022

A young priest travels from Denmark to Iceland in the late 19th century, where his mission is mocked by nature and by the corruptibility of his faith in Hlynur Pálmason’s striking elemental epic.

In Icelandic writer-director Hlynur Pálmason’s Godland, man’s ambitions, even in relation to matters as seemingly pure as faith and spirituality, are revealed to be fragile, small, helpless against the omnipotent forces of an unforgiving natural world. Those themes suggest a film of brooding portentousness, and this transfixing drama is certainly austere. But there’s also a marvelously odd vein of sneaky humor running through it, along with an unpredictability that keeps you glued. In terms of scope, it recalls Martin Scorsese’s Silence, while its taunting questions about the limits of piety call to mind John Michael McDonagh’s criminally underseen Calvary.

No 2½ hour drama about a Lutheran priest’s physical, spiritual, moral and metaphysical journey from Denmark to a far-flung corner of colonial Iceland in the late 19th century is ever going to be an easy sell. But this is a highly original work that goes beyond its theological aspects to explore more universal questions of mankind and our evanescent place in the world. Even its images of death hit differently, notably in some stunning time-lapse sequences that show flesh and bone being absorbed into the landscape. Godland is many things, not least of them a contemplative correlative to the Viking bloodbath of The Northman.

The film was inspired by seven wet-plate photographs taken by a Danish priest in the late 1800s that are the first known images captured of one of Iceland’s more remote coastal regions. Cinematographer Maria von Hausswolffs takes that historical source as her visual cue, shooting in the boxy 1.33:1 Academy ratio with the hard edges and rounded off corners of old photos.

Lucas (Elliott Crosset Hove) is a young priest sent from Denmark to oversee the building of a church and establish a parish in rural Iceland. The bishop (Waage Sandø) preparing him for the arduous cross-country trek he will take after his ship makes land advises Lucas to pay heed to the local guides, who are able to read the rivers and floes and glaciers he will need to pass. While the senior cleric assures him his journey will not take him near the volcano, he colorfully describes its stench: “Like the Earth has shat its pants.”

There’s fear in Lucas’ unblinking gaze. But beneath his outer asceticism, there also appears to be a note of arrogance, of the proudly intrepid colonialist setting off to bring God to the primitive subjects of Danish rule. During the rough sea crossing, Lucas makes a half-hearted attempt to learn some rudimentary Icelandic from the interpreter (Hilmar Guðjónsson) assigned to travel with him — at least making a start on the countless different words for rain. But seasickness cuts the lesson short and his willingness to make any linguistic effort seems to end right there.

Nor is he much encouraged after their arrival by the indifferent welcome of the head guide, Ragnar (Ingvar Sigurðsson), a rugged older man of the land who snorts his dismissal of the “Danish devil” as he prepares the priest’s horse and others to be ridden by the small party. That involves loading up Lucas’ bulky camera equipment, with its wooden easels, developing fluids and trays, as well as a large wooden cross to adorn the new church, which needs to be built before the harsh winter sets in.

An ominous shot of an earthworm feasting on a large pile of fresh horse manure suggests trouble ahead. Likewise, distant glimpses of the volcano, its fiery glow piercing white fog and clouds.

The simmering hostility between Lucas and Ragnar, two polar opposites, builds almost symphonically throughout the film, fueled by the priest continuing to regard the Icelander as a vulgar brute, even showing impatience with his genuinely curious questions about what it takes to become a man of God. Ragnar, with his bracing daily morning routine of shirtless exercise, seems connected to the earth and the elements in a way Lucas will never understand. The Icelander tells folkloric stories and sings poems as they travel, which seem to further stoke the priest’s indignation.

Both the psychological and the physical rigors of the expedition are magnified in Alex Zhang Hungtai’s other-worldly score, its ambient sounds and dissonant horns evoking everything from howling winds to whale calls.

A tragedy ensues directly from Lucas’ stubborn refusal to listen to Ragnar during a river crossing, but still the priest shows few outward signs of being humbled. As they climb higher into the mountains, the weather becomes more severe. “It’s getting rather cold,” says one of the party with droll understatement as they sit by a campfire surrounded by snow and wrapped in a chill you can practically feel in your bones. Isolated and uncommunicative, Lucas grows feebler, losing stamina and praying to God to deliver him from the unconquerable place. He collapses and seems closer to death than life, but he survives, albeit a broken man.

Around the midway point Pálmason deftly shifts the tone to imply that the worst is behind Lucas. He wakes up after an unspecified period of unconsciousness at their destination, in the home of a hardy Danish widower, Carl (Jacob Hauberg Lohmann), and his two daughters, the marriageable Anna (Vic Carmen Sonne) and her precocious younger sister, Ida (Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir), full of questions. During his first dinner with them, Lucas sits in bug-eyed silence, seemingly stunned to be alive; he barely reacts even when Carl, with a malicious glint, informs him that they could have sailed there, rather than making the punishing journey by land.

Construction on the church is well underway, but Lucas refuses to perform a wedding ceremony for nearby farmers in a half-finished house of worship, though he does participate in the festivities. Meanwhile, speculation grows among the locals, Ida included, as to whether Lucas will wed Anna, even if Carl scoffs at the idea of her marrying a priest.

The drama’s thunderous final stretch begins when Ragnar approaches Lucas while he’s photographing the coastline and asks the priest to take his picture, as he has for Carl, Anna, Ida and others. Lucas’ mean-spirited refusal is startling, even more so when the Icelander launches into a confessional litany of his sins, each of them punctuated with the refrain, “Pray for me.” What follows reveals how deep the battle of wills has been etched into the two men’s souls, with conflict embedded even in their lack of a common language, but only Ragnar seems capable of humility.

That shattering scene is followed by one that’s even more unsettling as Lucas commences his first service in the now completed church, and nature itself seems to intervene, deeming him unfit to preach the word of God. The film suggests the deluded single-mindedness of many missionaries in foreign lands, bringing with them not holiness but violence and spiritual unrest. All that plays out here in unexpected ways, like a stark bulletin from another time.

Pálmason’s control over this challenging material never falters throughout the film’s epic length, deftly dropping in moments of surprising lightness to alleviate the dark.

This applies also to the excellent cast. Crosset Hove (the lead in Pálmason’s debut feature, Winter Brothers) makes the priest’s face a mask of perturbed intensity that struggles to hide his worsening imbalance. Sigurðsson’s bear-like strength doesn’t exclude aching human vulnerability, as Ragnar proves increasingly fearful of God. Sonne has warm moments as Anna, yearning to escape the place where nothing grows and return to Denmark. And Hlynsdóttir (the director’s own daughter, like Sigurðsson seen in his second feature, A White, White Day) makes Ida’s cheeky curiosity and irreverence seem tapped into Lucas’ own thorny conscience.

Considering that photography was the inspiration for Godland, it’s appropriate that DP von Hausswolffs makes such arresting use of the eye of Lucas’ camera in capturing a landscape that the priest aptly describes as “terribly beautiful.” Pálmason’s previous two films have been well-received on the festival trail; this knockout drama represents a considerable leap in maturity and ambition that merits commensurate attention.

David Rooney. Hollywood Reporter, May 27th 2022

A priest succumbs to an ascetic unravelling in a beautifully bare Icelandic snow globe.

There are few forces that are comparable to colonialism for its limitless capacity for destruction, but Mother Nature certainly comes close. Icelandic director Hlynur Pálmason’s (A White, White Day) epic poses the question: who’d blink first in a coming together of the two? If Godland’s languid pacing has anything to do with it, it will probably be you.

This 19th century tale of faith and frostbite sees fresh-faced Danish priest Lucas (Elliott Crosset Hove) tasked with building a church in neighbouring Iceland before the arrival of an unforgiving winter. Despite the scale of the mission, he is given very little guidance from his superior, beyond learning the language and immersing himself in the local customs. His refusal to do either offers an eye-opening insight into the tensions between the Scandinavian nations.

The stubborn priest’s outsider status quickly garners him the endearing nickname of ‘Danish devil’ from a congregation of Icelandic farmhands. That dynamic is distilled in Lucas’s mutually disdainful relationship with his hired chaperone Ragnar (Ingvar Eggert Sigurðsson). Worn down by the snowy abyss, the churchman’s unchristlike qualities slowly come to the fore, culminating in a brutal final act.

You’d be hard pressed to find a more immersive Winter Wonderland experience than Godland. Cinematographer Maria von Hausswolff’s mastery of scale renders human activity insignificant in comparison with the might of the Icelandic outbacks; capturing everything from towering glaciers to what may be the most painterly shot of horse dung ever committed to film.

Godland is every bit as striking and otherworldly as you would expect a story inspired by a collection of long-lost wet plate photographs to be. It’s tailor-made for those who enjoy sitting by the window and watching the snow fall, but less so for those who can’t wait for the grit van to come and melt it all away.

Whelan Barzey, Time Out, 4th April 2023.

What you thought about Godland

Film Responses

Collated Response Comments

124 members and guests attended this screening. The total number of responses received was 72, delivering a film score of 4.10 and a response rate of 58%.

Your comments are collected below.

“A slow film sometimes painfully so, made time its essence, conveyed by the death and steady decay of a fallen horse, as well as the ravages on Lucas' frail body and brittle mind; add weather and change of seasons and the time taken to build the timber church. Admit my concentration wandered a bit, but the light changes and Ragnar's face brings us back to the path, wavering on a mountain edge which leads to force of tragedy at the end. Then we have the language differences of two nations and religion as main themes. Nothing is sugar coated. Nature's power is Lucas's adversary, stunningly shown despite the reduced aspect screen ratio. The cumbersome photographic equipment Lucas carries over the mountains, is a metaphor for the burden of nonsense he is bringing into this wilderness. The opening images frame the polar opposites: the bishop's opulent meal in Lucas's grim presence, man vs nature, and, strikingly Danish "conquerors" versus the native Icelanders. But these opposing elements become complementary, one cannot exist without the other. The music is significant, with a horn motif lingers through the first hour, to the songs characters play, then the juxtaposition of a patriotic Danish tune played desolate Iceland images, before an ominous Icelandic song resonant of a Viking dream. A powerful piece of filmmaking”.

“Apparently Mark Kermode commented that 'you need to meet this film half way'. He is not wrong, it would be easy to find it long, slow and lacking in action but that would be to miss the point entirely. If you don't make the journey, you can't savour the finale. The film falls into two halves, the first in which the hubristic, narrow minded pastor's unconvincing faith fails in the face of the magnificent, unforgiving landscape and gruelling conditions, tortured by the manner in which his guide, a man supposedly his inferior, the obdurate Ragnar, flourishes. The cinematography is marvellous, not just showing the stark beauty of the landscape but somehow conveying with great physicality the severity of the conditions. The volcano erupts as if Odin himself were rising to claim Lucas. This could be read as a comment on the thoughtless arrogance of colonialism or the hubristic attitude of modern man to the world and a plea for the balance with nature of so many First Nation societies. The obvious comparisons are Herzog's 'Aguirre, wrath of God' and 'Fitzcarraldo', though in the gentle humour at Lucas' cost there are echoes of the city boys having their heads turned in the Highlands of 'I know where I'm going', 'The Maggie' and 'Local Hero'. The second section is harder to read and contains, for me, surprising turns, Anna falling for the reptilian and unbending Lucas, Carl's murder of Lucas, Anna's tears for Lucas and, most shockingly Ragnar's death. At this point Ragnar has revealed himself as the only inhabitant who wants Lucas' help and needs God's blessing. And Lucas murders him. All of which could be seen as a furious comment on the church's cynical role in controlling the masses as part of government and in the interest of the powerful, and its lack of real interest in the population's spiritual well-being. There is again the coda of the cycle of life, death and renewal, and respect for the natural world. I suspect there is more to it than that though. An enormously powerful film that has stayed in my head (as you can tell from this comment which is far, far too long)”.

“Fantastic landscape cinematography and very atmospheric - I was convinced that I was feeling the cold permeate through the room. Good acting but the film was overlong and the plot was rather thin. It's a story that's been done before (toxic man of the cloth embarks on tough journey ending up in a community that doesn't need him or his message) but the location was new (to me) and stunning. I would have given it a "Good" if it had been 20 minutes shorter”.

“I could not believe the film was over, flew by and enjoyed every moment”.

“What complexity whilst watching a "snow storm".”

“Epic indeed. I am usually the person desperate to see the gritters (refer to official film reviews) however, I was so enthralled by the cinematography that the film duration didn't feel too onerous. On reflection I cannot think how the film time could be cut as we needed to see what made the 'priest' unravel. A lot to reflect on vis a vis human nature and organised religion”.

“Stunning but often bleak scenery, you could feel the cold on the trek across Iceland. Lucas, the Priest, was a highly unlikeable character but excellently portrayed. I found it difficult to understand his antagonism towards Ragnar, who seemingly did so much to help him. A ray of sunshine was provided by Ida, who I thought was the star of the film. You were never quite sure what you would see at the end of the long scanning shots, which together with the amazing time lapse filming added a lot of atmosphere. Whilst slow paced, I didn't find time dragging in what was a relatively long film. Another good choice. Thanks”.

“Don't mess with Iceland”.

“Whilst a rather long saga...it was so visually interesting and dramatic that I was carried along with this tale of the folly of missionary & colonial zeal…though you knew it would never end well!!”

“Very good, a little long”. “Epic, authentic and …..”

“Wonderful photography”. “Everything about this film was amazing”.

“Loved it. Different time, different place, haunting music. Majestic scenery”.

“Not at all how I thought it would be! Fascinating and fabulous photography. A very unusual film”.

“Bit slow in parts – beautiful cinematography”.

“Terrific direction and true Icelandic saga”.

“Strangely fascinating and disturbing in equal measures”.

“Great camera work; stunning scenery; wonderful contrast of slow pace and tension”.

“Wonderful cinema – I am glad you warned us not to expect a story”.

“A pleasingly arduous journey through a richly textured world. Very disappointed to hear someone’s phone go off during the film. Can it really be that hard to remember to turn you phone off, when a reminder is given at every single screening? Do people forget they own a phone?”

“Long but amazing scenery”.

“Excellent but I suspect not everyone’s cup of tea!”

“Breathly beautiful - the scenery and cinematography were terrific. Could have been shorter!”

“The combination of the visual and audio effects made it feel all encompassing and really added to a dark undertone at times”.

“Very atmospheric if a little long. Great cinematography”.

“Brutal, but I’m not sure I got the message”.

“Technically brilliant; colour palette and camera work especially”.

“Beautiful scenery – good acting- story jumped about”.

“Beautiful photography. Story not quite logical”.

“Really enjoyed it; the time flew by. Needs quite a bit of reflection”.

“Very depressing but beautiful scenery very well filmed. A very weak ‘man of God’ who did nothing good – oh dear”.

“Well mu goodness me! It certainly evoked the cold and wet. Some very good camera work; the striking scenery, the lava moving down after the volcano erupted”.

“Very good photography – rather a long film! Very good costumes for the period; enjoyed seing them. Austere film”.

“Great photography, great acting, including the animals. But difficult to read the action at times. Some unexplained ends – that was unsatisfactory”.

“Stunning photography. Interesting story – I didn’t expect as much murder. Priest deserved it!”

“Lovely scenery bit some shots too slow. Would have enjoyed more if Danish”.

“Brilliant cinematography. A film of two parts that jumped too quickly from one to the other”.

“Tedious. Good photography”. “Non-existent plot. Photography Brilliant photography”.

Well! I don’t know what to make of that. Beautiful filming but stark enough to make anyone go mad”.

“Made worse by length”.