originally published January 3, 2012
Like most people, I have always thought of Greenland as a desolate snowscape, abandoned except for the few wayward Vikings who still call it home. I did not expect to be learning about its vibrant film industry.
Today I came across Nuummioq, the first feature film produced entirely in Greenland. This movie, which was nominated for the Grand Jury Prize at the 2010 Sundance Film Festival, is about a guy who falls in love with the girl of his dreams, only to discover he has terminal cancer and has to travel to Denmark for treatment. I’m sure that, had I seen this film, I could prattle on for a thousand words about its majestic employment of naturalistic mise-en-scène and poignant low-key lighting. But I have not.
Instead, I’ll include a quote from the film’s credits, and a pristine example of traditional Greenlandic humor: “All animals were killed, enjoyed, and eaten during this production.” PETA clearly has no jurisdiction in Greenland, and any incoming animal rights advocates are promptly shot.
Only three films are listed on Wikipedia in the category of ‘Greenlandic Films’, suggesting their movie industry will not be adding a Walk of Fame along the main street in Nuuk. Le Voyage D’Inuk journeys from the giant island’s south to its north in what I am certain is a riveting tribute to its Inuit peoples. It tells a coming-of-age story about a sixteen-year-old kid named Inuk who dreams of starting an Inuit rock band. Like those other Inuit rock bands. You know, those ones.
Instead of starting his rock band, Inuk hunts bears, rides a dog-sled, and reflects on the damage caused by global warming. In the end, he rides a Cheetah and makes it to White Castle, where Neil Patrick Harris shows up and… okay, I haven’t seen this one either. I’m sure it’s emotionally gratifying.
The other notable slice of Greenlandic cinema is something called Heart of Light, or Qaamarngup Uummataa, for those who can stomach the Greenlandian flair for double vowels. I can find no plot synopsis for this film, only a morose snippet of dialog that tells me nothing about the story, except that some guy has a sick soul, and doesn’t feel he should be a father. I guess it’s a lot like The Empire Strikes Back, only with more snow and fewer green puppets.
Maybe what Greenland needs in order to put it on the map and rake in those tourist dollars is a cinematic renaissance. A Google image search for ‘Greenland Cinema’ brings up three pictures of snowscapes, a couple of bland ‘maps’ that depict a white, Greenland-shaped slab on a baby blue arctic ocean, and a picture of some movie theatre chairs that someone felt would sell in hot pink. Greenland needs a cultural identity in film.
The French had the New Wave, the Italians had Neorealism, the Australians had the That’s Not A Knife genre. What can Greenland produce that can identify their culture uniquely? I think we first need to abandon the actual culture of Greenland, which from what I can discern consists of Inuit art, snow-soccer and fishing. Nobody wants to see a movie about these things.
Of course the temptation is to suggest “pornography”, not only because writing that word guarantees an impressive number of visitors finding their way to my site (I am, after all, a publicity whore), but also because it’s a guaranteed top-seller. The down-side is that, in order to differentiate themselves from the rest of the world’s pornography, Greenlandians would have to tap into a pretty freaky, kinky market. I don’t want to go down that road of musings in this column, it just wouldn’t be right.
Here’s what I propose. We send Michael Bay to Greenland, really immerse him in the Nuuk way of life. Then we have him produce the most elaborate, most violent, most CGI-peppered, high-octane snowball fight movie in history.
There’s no way we lose here. Everyone loves a good snowball fight, and Michael Bay can come up with a way to make those things explode. Plus, it will keep him from churning out another 3-hour Transformers movie. This could (hopefully) kick-start a new genre and fill a long-neglected niche in the cinematic landscape. I’m not talking about a great snowball fight in a movie, I’m talking about an entire film which is based on the premise that snowballs are a plausible and effective means for settling any and all disputes. The ‘Arctic Western’.
No? Should we look deeper?
How about Greenland becomes ground zero for a spate of movies which are performed entirely in limerick form. I’m thinking mostly romantic comedies here, but there are a lot of possibilities. Science fiction, maybe. I can hear the voice-over for the trailer now, spoken by that deep-voiced, really dramatic guy who does every movie trailer voice-over ever:
“In a world of corruption and greed,
There’s a man who is driven by need.
When the aliens attack
He’s our only fight back,
He is Puuqwa ‘The Snow King’ Muusqeed.”
I think we need to keep reaching for high-concept ideas here. From what I can tell, the few films that were shot in Greenland are human dramas, in which the snow acts as an allegory for the desolation of the lost human soul bla bla bla bla…
Who cares? No ticket-buying public, especially the 21st century ticket-buying public, is going to queue up for a festival of depressing, snow-covered stories about death and loss. Not that the Neorealists in post-war Italy were necessarily filled with a Wow-Factor that would draw in today’s crowds, but it impressed enough people back then. The Greenlandians need to do something new, even if it only means a series of films starring nothing but shadow puppets.
I’m going to do something I don’t usually do, and stab my subject in the eye today. I encourage my audience to avoid Nuummioq, and hold out for something revolutionary to come from Greenland, something that is worthy of establishing the basis of a nation’s (or sub-nation, or whatever Greenland is) culture.
Just don’t piss off the folks at PETA, I implore you, Greenland. They will mess you up.
1000 Albums, 1000 Dates 