Tales from the Gimli Hospital

In the modern town of Gimli, two young children watch their mother dying in hospital. To distract them they are told a story of old Gimli by their grandmother. In the story it is Gimli years ago when live was disrupted by an outbreak of smallpox. With poor medical facilities available to him, Einar finds himself in a nightmarish half-waking state of "care" with other sufferers, including his friend Gunnar, who are somewhere between life and death. The two friends grow close but shared secrets threaten to tear them apart as the world around them changes quickly.

As someone who actually likes Guy Maddin I still have to be honest and say that, while my favourite films of his have narratives I like, usually his work is not where you want to come for stories that grip you and make a lot of sense. And so it is with his first feature film, a story that is being told to two children who, for some reason, are in the room where their mother is dying; it sounds strange and indeed it is. The narrative is interesting enough but if that's all there was here of value then you'd have given up quite quickly; happily there is enough of interest going on to engage the audience despite the narrative being rather incoherent at times. This is not to say that it will appeal to all viewers because of course it will not, but for those that "get" his other films, the story will not be a problem.

The reason for this is that his unique style is fully on display here (albeit with a lower budget) and this makes it interesting if not totally engrossing. At times the style overwhelmed the lesser substance to such an extent that it did feel rather hollow but this was a rare feeling for me. Normally I have that problem with his shorts but, with a low running time, it usually doesn't matter so much. With his features it can be a problem but he mastered it with the wonderful Cowards Bend At The Knee and he does enough to cover it here. It did feel a bit sparse at times although that is probably more to do with me being used to his bigger budget films (bigger being a comparative term) rather than the film being weak visually. The cast don't really give much in the way of performances so much as be carried along with the direction but this isn't that much of a problem since the film was never about them.

Overall this film is an acquired taste that will not appeal to those who dislike other Maddin films. Compared to his later films, this feels a lot less flashy and sparse but it still works and will please fans of Maddin. Narrative-wise it has some problems that viewers may find difficult to get past but the many strange and imaginative touches to the overall delivery of the film more than cover for these issues and, while not an equal to some of his recent work, this is still worth a watch.

Guy Maddin's "Tales from Gimli Hospital" is a surreal locomotive of a film that never for a second pretends to make a lick of sense. Characters and events lack logic and motivation, leaving the proceedings within an oddball world of duck feathers, Indian burials, and mute men (some in blackface). The result is intriguing yet pretentious and too deliberately ambiguous (while "Eraserhead" made less narrative sense, its 'clues' were more meticulously assembled), but shows promise from writer-director Guy Maddin, who successfully invokes the classic styles of German Expressionism and even "Hour of the Wolf"-era Ingmar Bergman.

Here's a movie that took its miniscule budget and really made the most of it.

How? Well, take a look at the looping synchronization. It can't be done well without being expensive, so they do very little of it, and get around the problem by shooting characters from obtuse angles that hide the problem. Color's expensive too, so it's in black and white. And music? You can hear the needle drop on the record.

But the money they spent went in the right areas. The visuals are so strong and the camera placement sometimes so unexpected that you find yourself wondering what it is you're looking at--and then something moves, and the tableau breaks apart into a conventional scene. The opening sequence, a long sfx pan down to the Gimli hospital, going through clouds and angels, evokes the 1940s so well that you halfway expect to see William Bendix in one of the beds. The costuming is strange and the plot seems totally unworkable, and yet it pulls you in and keeps you there, never seems to make a horrible misstep, and at times hits exactly what it's aiming for.

Sure it's an amateur film. But look at the nice smooth camera work, the well-paced editing, the good choices in music for mood. While it's all too easy to cite Cocteau, Blood of a Poet comes to mind often while watching Tales from the Gimli Hospital, thanks to the surprising interruption of the narrative by little bits of surreal magic. You don't walk away from this one saying that it could have been done better--instead, you wonder how it was done so well for so little.

I picked up this movie since I live in Gimli, and have heard interesting things about Guy Maddin. Though certainly a strange and surrealist film, it is also a monument and critique of Icelandic culture, and Gimli, where he had a summer cottage. If you know the history of Gimli, and are familiar with Icelandic culture, certain parts of the film do not seem strange at all. I would be interested in knowing how people not knowing these things interpreted things like the marriage across the river, or the food served at the hospital. I am in love with the aesthetics of it. He has been able to capture the exact look of early films, right down to actors and costuming, yet this doesn't seem to take over the film. Though I am personally a bigger fan of Maddin's short films, I enjoyed trying to work my way through this.

Fans of David Lynch and early Luis Buñuel will find plenty to admire (or scratch their head at) in this esoteric, shoestring budget mock Icelandic folk tale, set in a bleak sub-arctic village where victims of a mysterious plague are treated by having their sores caressed with dead seagulls. Winnipeg director Guy Maddin borrows extensively from the primitive vocabulary of the early sound era (with grainy photography, a scratchy music score, and crude post-dubbed dialogue) to create a nonsensical 70-minute punchline with no joke attached. The antique style of the production would have to be considered its own reward, especially since the story itself (involving incest, hints of necrophilia, and a mysterious butt-grabbing duel to the death) leads nowhere in particular. The awkward emoting by Nordic characters named Gunnar, Snjofridur, and Einar the lonely; the Louise Brooks look-alike nurses; and the cameo appearance of a black-faced vaudeville minstrel are all reminiscent of some nightmarish, early 1930s melodrama, but Maddin's aesthetic is aimed squarely at today's midnight cult audiences.