The World of Movies: Arctic
Written by Rachael Crawley
The World of Movies is a series that explores global cinema, drawing on films from many countries, industries and eras. This week, we contend with the Icelandic wilderness.
May contain spoilers.
Arctic (Joe Penna, 2018) is a small story played out on an epic backdrop. It deals with only one active character, a sparse landscape, and a very simple plot. It is an accumulation of small moments rather than a grand narrative arc. Within these parameters, it drives home the isolation and danger of the backcountry, while emphasizing the movie’s strengths – an excellent lead performance and stellar cinematography.
The movie begins sometime after the pilot Overgård has crashed his plane. Day to day, he goes about the business of staying alive, with intermittent attempts to signal for rescue. He at least appears to be an experienced outdoorsman, displaying impressive wilderness skills. The movie gets this part right while still remaining engaging; survival is a daily grind, not a source of action. The region is remote – the frequent long shots ensure we are aware of its moon-like emptiness – and polar bears lurk nearby. There is no guarantee that search-and-rescue will find him in time. In this unforgiving milieu, his chances look bleak.
The movie’s silence adds to this disconcerting feeling, particularly near the beginning. There is, understandably, almost no speech. Crunching snow, blowing winds and other ambient noises occasionally cut in. However, the wilderness is, for the most part, devoid of sound. The movie avoids flashbacks and other devices to cut away from the story. We only see Overgård and the wreck, until a second aircraft crashes in the area. He finds a badly injured survivor in the helicopter wreckage.
This creates a dilemma. With Overgård in such a precarious position, how far can he go to rescue her? Even with his best efforts, is it too late? The survivor (Maria Thelma Smáradóttir) is barely conscious the entire time – her fate rests solely with him.
The prospect of a seasonal station nearby provides some hope. After some planning, the two begin a treacherous journey through the mountains. There are, of course, plenty of setbacks and obstacles, along with more immediate dangers. Despite the movie’s short runtime, I found that this section lagged a little – while the story certainly has urgency, the way it plays out can feel rather repetitive and slow. Its abrupt ending, however, fits the story perfectly, as part of the movie’s “practical” style.
Iceland’s otherworldly scenery, so popular in film and TV of all genres, is an eerie yet gorgeous backdrop (helped by a mournful, haunted score). Contrasted with the cramped, yet safer downed aircraft, it provides an endless expanse from which any danger might approach. Overgård and his companion often appear extremely small and vulnerable. The cinematography is up to the challenge, as it deftly contrasts small splashes of colour with unending white landscape.
The bulk of this movie must be carried by Mads Mikkelsen, who plays it exactly right, with a resolve that is not overstated. So much of this movie consists of small moments. Mikkelsen is believable as a trained professional who can deploy his skills without fuss. Sometimes the writing is inconsistent – the character’s choices seem a little baffling (why is he missing his hat or gloves so often?). Still, as the sole developed character, his quiet determination is compelling enough to keep the movie going.
The cinematography alone would make Arctic worth watching. Its detailed look at realistic survival may appeal for fans of adventure and wilderness stories. It is an excellent showcase for Mikkelsen, who has referred to the film as the most difficult shoot of his career. While the movie does have small flaws, it is a memorable tale of the Arctic’s dangers – and a chronicle of its beauty.
Rachael Crawley holds a Master's Degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, and has worked with film in Canada and in Europe. She adores language and cinema, and how these subjects interact with each other.