by Allan Fish
(Canada 2001 168m) DVD1/2
Aka. The Fast Runner; Atanarjuat
I can only sing this song to someone who understands it
p Paul Apak Angilirq, Norman Cohn, Zacharias Kunuk d Zacharias Kunuk w Paul Apak Angilirq ph Norman Cohn ed Zacharias Kunuk, Norman Cohn, Marie-Christine Sarda m Chris Crilly art James Ungalaaq
Natar Ungalaaq (Atanarjuat), Sylvia Ivalu (Atuat), Peter Henry Arnatsiaq (Oki), Lucy Tulugarjuk (Puja), Madeline Ivalu (Panikpak), Pauloosie Qulitalik (the shaman), Eugene Ipkarnak (Sauri, the chief), Pakak Innuksuk (Amaqjuaq), Neeve Urngaut (Uluriaq), Abraham Ulayuruluk (Tungajuaq), Apayata Kotierk (Kumaglak), Alex Uttak (Pakak), Mary Qulitalik (Niriuniq),
The first ever film made entirely in the Inuit language, Atanarjuat won acclaim wherever it was shown, taking in a Camera d’Or from Cannes and other awards from the Flemish, Toronto and Edinburgh Film Festivals and critics circle citations from numerous cities. It was a breath of fresh air, not maybe an all-time great, but a massively important film culturally and, one might have hoped, the first of many films in the Inuit language. That it hasn’t proved the case has been put down to the old “well, how many films about Eskimos can you make”, to which one can only reply “well, how many films about working class British pluck can you make.” If you have people, if you have faces, you have a film.
This particular one takes place many centuries ago, the best part of 2,000 years ago to be more exact, though it could, given the location, have been in the here and now. It tells of how a rogue shaman summons an evil spirit which results in the death of the local chief, and a usurper taking his place. Needless to say, a blood feud develops, which only escalates when the chief’s rival’s two sons – of which the eponymous Atanarjuat is one – become the best hunters in the group and Atanarjuat wins the hand of a girl who the chief’s jealous son also wanted for his own. As one might expect, naught good comes of it, with Atanarjuat’s brother killed and a naked Atanarjuat fleeing for his life across the frozen wastes. All seems lost, but is it?
In essence the story is an old one, Shakespearean in scope, but on a scale which, in physical terms, dwarfs while remaining profoundly intimate. And there’s poignancy there, too, for we know that the way of life depicted is dwindling into extinction now, in the face of global warming and the melting of the ice caps. Long gone are the days of Nanook of the North and Flaherty’s legendary but somewhat quaint simplicity. Some of the actions of the Inuits may, to us, seem savage, and yet what are we, with our thoughtless ‘screw the future, burn, baby, burn’ mentality. If there is anything savage here, it’s the beauty of the thing. No film has captured the bleak expanses of arctic desert – the snow, could just as easily be sand – quite like Atanarjuat. And when one considers that it was all shot on hand-held digital cameras it’s a truly awe-inspiring achievement. With a backdrop that makes even the most intimate tale epic, it doesn’t promote the scenery, and doesn’t seek to prettify the surroundings, letting them, and the images that result (with shots of endless snow to the horizon and huskies howling against a magic-hour-lit sky) speak for themselves.
It’s scope covers more than merely the Inuits, though; it can easily be seen as a poem to the dwindling indigenous peoples from all over the world, and does so courtesy of a story which is both universal and a glimpse into a whole new world. With critics tripping over themselves to find superlatives, Trevor Johnston wrote “…spellbinding storytelling, it also prompts admiration for the Inuit people’s patience, resilience and their overriding concern for harmony with the world around them.” J.Hoberman went further still, calling it “engrossing from first image to last, so devoid of stereotype and cosmic in its vision it could suggest the rebirth of cinema.” If I wouldn’t quite go that far – it’s exceptional more than it is great – it’s still a film that should be seen by everyone because it is unlike anything you have seen before or will see again.
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Set in the snow and ice, this raw and atmospheric Lapp film is superlative, and one of the very best of its kind.
“Exceptional rather than great” sounds about right, though watching Atanarjuat is a great, singular experience that any world-cinema fan should try, preferably on the big screen to get the proper eyeful of wintry waste. I’ve only seen it once but my memories are strong.
Have heard a lot about this film. Yet to see it.
I’m sort of interested in how much importance you give to the “exceptional” and how much to the “great”. Because, the tons of exceptional avant-garde works out there, which might not make the cut here, are exceptional and truly unlike we’ve anything seen before. But I’m not sure if one can place them on the decade’s best for that quality alone.
This film, anyway, sounds fascinating on both counts and I will keep my eyes open
What are some that you think of JAFB? I’m always in the mood for something new that I might not have seen or even heard of.
Jamie, I wasn’t thinking of any film in particular. I was thinking about those experimental video works, underground films and other pastiche works (like the late works of Godard) that usually turn out highly provocative.
I cannot put into mere words the way I feel about this film. Easily one of the very best of its year and sure to make my list by the time I put pen to paper. The experience of this film leaves you breathless. Unlike anything I have ever seen before, it transports you to a time and a place with people you’ve only ever heard of. Desolation, hope, pride, profound humanity-I guess if you put a gun to my head I would use words like those to sum up the indeliable impression this film leaves on you once seen. A GREAT FILM period. I owe Sam a world of thanks for dragging me to see this when I scoffed at the description he gave me. Thank God his perserverance was unwavering, I’d have missed out on a trip to a wonderful,magical place. This is as real as they come. So glad Allan had it somewhere in the 100.
Dennis, I felt the same. So much of the action was thrillingly strange–like the throat-singing; like the dialogue which is so sparse that every word has weight; complicated, delicate and subtle interactions between the characters, which suddenly abrupt into the utmost brutality. The steadfastness and goodness of the Fast Runner’s wife, inspite of savage abuse, is a sort of moral star. And I won’t even talk about the icy terrain where the story takes place–stranger to me than a moonscape (because we do see the moon every night!) All of it, unforgettable.
Hi Sam I think the film is not Lapp but Inuit i.e. its not a Finnish indigenous group but a Canadian one.
The film itself was very interesting and one that unlike many films on indigenous communities was made by and also for the Inuit.
Anu: You are quite right. In this sense I confused it with THE PATHFINDER, which is also a very good film, but not nearly as great as THE FAST RUNNER. Thanks for that clarification.
Of course, lacking pyrotechnics and other additions to films these days, this one does take you to a simpler time and place.
No cell phones, tvs, radios, cars, etc, etc.
Mesmerizing despite lacking what many find needed in their film experience.
Well worth seeing and one you don’t forget.
Cheers!
“No cell phones, tvs, radios, cars, etc, etc.”
Aye, Michael. You really do have this film framed perfectly.
This is a brilliant film–both ethnically significant and universally accessible. If you’re interested in seeing other films by the same group of Inuit, you can check them out at http://www.isuma.ca/. Most of their films are available free for download, although if you want to support a truly independent production company, there is the option to donate, as well.
That’s an a very interesting link there Jeopardy Girl, and as a Canadian I know you are particularly proud of this film as well you should. Thanks as always for the great comment.
I haven’t seen it but I love this line:
“That it hasn’t proved the case has been put down to the old “well, how many films about Eskimos can you make”, to which one can only reply “well, how many films about working class British pluck can you make.” If you have people, if you have faces, you have a film.”