Island Lives March 23, 2013

Winter Light (Norway 2011, director Skule Eriksen)

Some serene and austere, rocky, sea-washed and wind-swept piece of land perhaps made its nest in the dreams of most of us, at least before the time when the reality of cheap flights, with the destination palm islands enclosed with dirty sand beaches, managed to sweep it away for some. Such frames with breath-taking landscapes are almost without any exceptions the attribute of very specific films. Films in which the protagonists are allowed no rest as they are under ongoing attacks by some orcs, trolls, and other minions of Evil. Skule Erikson’s Winter Light is indeed like The Lord of the Rings or The Game of Thrones – just without the tedious ongoing hassle and struggle. Everybody gets to live, and lives long and peaceful lives, able to go to sea, go shopping, visit grave sites, send Christmas cards to their grandchildren. The way the hobbits originally intended to live their lives…

The islands of Lofoten can be considered the warmest place in the Arctic. The temperature on the westernmost islands of the archipelago remains above zero throughout the year, although the latitude is nearing the 70s. The northern part of Alaska is on the same latitude and Iceland remains far south of Lofoten. The calm sea between the fjords is full of fatty fish, plenty of space, the food does not get mouldy, and wind sweeps away mosquitoes and gnats. In a way it would be harder to find a better living environment than Lofoten. If only those tourists wouldn’t arrive during summer…

However, this is perhaps not what the documentary is trying to tell us. I’m not quite sure what the filmmaker thinks of this life as the camera moves around as if there were no human party involved. The camera looks around the courtyard, takes a peek into the chambers, follows the fishermen to sea, and meanders along the empty shore, without any agency of its own. It would be fine if the visual side was up to par. Yet it seems that not much effort has been put into the visuals. All the camera work seems to have performed on foot (the altitude of the camera from the ground seems to be the only indication of a human factor) and therefore the framing is not as good as it could have been. The author has not used any specific techniques – no slow motion, macro mode shooting, nor has the lens been underwater. Although omitting all that might have been intentional in order to avoid implications of the mainstream or something else, the light of the sky is not that easily attainable, especially in the far north. It has to be assembled with care ray by ray; let it settle and condense, enrich it with time. And only after that you’ll get a film.

One Year’s Reminder (Italy 2012, director Michele Di Salle, Luca Papaleo)

I have recently spent few years in Mediterranean climate and therefore I know exactly what remains when summer is removed from the four seasons. All that is left behind is just three months of humid weather with bearable temperature, where it is hard to distinguish whether it is autumn or winter according to the locals’ opinion. All that followed by a spring that lasts less than a week and we are back to at least 35°C of the desert dry heat of Cancer inducing debilitating summer sunshine. And if this all is accompanied by a bunch of tourists, one can understand why the filmmakers decided to wait out the summer to the end.

Waiting is the foundation of the very culture of the southern Italy. One is waiting for the harvest to become ripe, then to dry, then to ferment, then the wines to sell, and after that, and mainly, for the cash to flow in. During the summer they sell capers to the tourists and so the yearly circle pass by. There are no riches to be made and no innovation generated. Perhaps that is the reason why the life in the area has stayed substantively pretty much the same for centuries, if not for thousands of years. Fellini’s childhood memories from the 1930s featured in Amarcord, though taking place a bit northwards in Central Italy, or the imagery in Saint Gennaro’s Blood by Hungarian refugee Sándor Márai, who stayed in the Napoli region soon after WWII, are almost identical to what we see in the documentary, not to mention other, earlier descriptions.

One Year’s Reminder just observes, but observes with intense intimacy. The camera does not reach the bedrooms, however, in its neutrality it does not aspire to do so. Yet it makes it to the boats, cars, cellars and indoors, where the inhabitants of Salina Island tend to spend the better part of the day. Not to mention the streets. The camera is not so much filming as registering. Doing it in the best sense of photographic documentary. And recording the exact moments that escape the regular tourist. When a winter storm tosses medusas to the pier, wedding photographs gathering dust in an anteroom, the bus driver picking up children on the way to school…

In addition to such miniatures, the documentary features some charming little tales of the islanders. Perhaps the most memorable one being of Salvatore – a bearded old man who drives the school bus as well as fire fighting barrel and in his free time is engaged in making wine and art. Such an internal drive to care a bit more about what’s around you is perhaps the most important aspect dividing a modern man from the old world’s civic societal way of life. There is no need to rush into the brighter future, it is perfectly alright to step aside and admire your surroundings. And all that close up, mid shot and wide shot, under and above the water, in the sky and on the earth, and even in the format of enchanting animation. Nothing to be ashamed of…

 Photograph by Nele Tammeaid