46. Valhalla

(Denmark 1986 76/89 min)

Director Peter Madsen, Jeffrey James Varab; Screenplay Peter Madsen, Soren Hakansson, Henning Kure, Hans Rancke-Madsen, Niels Sondergaard, Per Vadmand; Music Ron Goodwin; Cinematography Niels Gronlykke, Jan-Erik Sandberg; Editing Lidia Sablone; Voice Acting Marie Ingerslev (Tjalfe), Laura Bro (Roskva)

by Stephen Russell-Gebbett

Valhalla is a cartoon loved by Danish children and loved by the adults they became. It is the kind of film that you take with you through your life like an old teddy bear. It has a buoyant, cuddly, secure feel to it and no matter how much you play it, its eyes won’t fall out and its hair won’t wear away.. The adventures of Tjalfe (voiced by a woman as so many young boys in animation are – most famously, Bart Simpson) and his younger sister Roskva take them far away from their parents but they don’t feel too scary or perilous because, from the embrace the young brother and sister share before they set off, one is reassured that each sibling’s home is with the other.

Theirs is the kind of bond that gives you the strength to tame ogres, cut giants down to size and stand toe to toe with the Great God of Thunder, Thor. Which is just as well. One night the sky splits with lightning and the fabled Norse Gods Thor and Loki come to visit the two children and their parents. It’s an honour for such a humble family, an honour bestowed every so often on the mortals who live beyond the walls of Valhalla, the enormous city of the Gods that hunkers in the shadow of Ygdrasil, the gargantuan Tree of Life.

However, Tjalfe, goaded by Loki, the God of mischief, fails to obey Thor’s instructions. Enraged, Thor demands reparations and tears him from the family home to work as his servant. As his slave, more like. His sister, worried, stows away in his cart. He can face anything if she’s by his side because she gives him a reason to act bravely. He has to play the part of a hero. From there begins a series of scrapes, near escapes and a surprising friendship struck with a mischievous troll called Quark, whose face looks like a bag of chestnuts. It is Quark’s tantrums, despite the wonderment of Gods and monsters, that provide the main dramatic thrust, pulling the main characters this way and that across the mythical realm.

At times the Gods stray onto the silly side (I must say that this might not be a good primer for Norse mythology). They aren’t much to be scared of either. However, this is part of Valhalla‘s charm. What are the Gods after all if not big kids with big, noisy toys? Sometimes they are magnanimous, sometimes they show off. Sometimes they just want to bully you. Can one ever get closer to the Gods without making them over time, seem somehow ordinary? The smorgasbord of fun and highjinks mix well with the more recognisable divinity of the deep and ominous voiceover narration. This is comfort food with a kick.

Valhalla is quite typical in story (adapted by Peter Madsen from his own comic series) but there are some intriguing alcoves and hidden passageways within its high wooden battlements. The introductory monologue takes us into, over and across Valhalla, perspectives shifting and bending in one long shot, streets and mountains seeming to fold in and out. You get lost in the disorienting new world of the story, like a pop-up book stretched out flat.

The Walls of Valhalla

Another welcome feature is the lack of heavy-handed moralising. The kids bring up morality from within themselves, like a pale of water from a well. The growth of the children into stronger and more independent individuals is the most fantastical of all the sights on offer. They learn to accept Quark’s quirks and respect the needs of others.

That being said, perhaps the character-building works too well as they do forget their parents rather quickly! When they finally escape from Thor’s chores they prefer to spend their days frolicking in the forest rather than trying to make their way home.

Valhalla‘s animation style is quite typical. The characters are soft and bouncy, and the colours rounded and warm. Yet, as I have said, it has that intangible comforting quality that marks out the greatest hand-drawn animation, the sort that makes you want to curl up in front of the television and gaze dreamily at the screen. In other words, it is that insidious kind of film that cheekily bides its time and then bursts with nostalgia in later life. It’s a shame children outside of Denmark are unlikely to have the opportunity to see it at the age where they will be most enchanted; enchanted by the rainbow that bridges a precipitous canyon, mesmerised by Thor’s thunderous arrival, and tickled by the chess pieces that battle, weary with the routine, for real.

A truly heartwarming film.