Atanarjuat

For the longest time, I sort of avoided Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner, as I knew the movie was a long one, and about Inuit legend, something that really didn't appeal to me. But when the title became available, I decided to, as they say, throw caution into the wind, and watch this. After finishing it, I'm really glad I had the experience, as it's a pretty amazing movie, both in it's story and the sheer fact that it got made. The story is about one man, Atanarjuat, and his daily life in the cold harsh arctic. He seems to get along well with the other Inuit, but soon, a power struggle erupts, and soon he has to rely on the powers within himself and others to overcome great odds thrown in his way. Again, the sheer fact that this was made, and the fact that they found actors in the caliber of performance that Natar Ungalaaq Pulls off is nothing short of remarkable. I don't know the full story of how this was made, but I am sure these are first time actors here, and they just ace it. Probably because the story hits so close to home. The lead actor, Natar Ungalaaq is to be especially commended for taking so many acting risks as he did (running naked on ice floes??) The only problem I have with this, and this seems to be a common complaint with people who watched this, is that it's quite hard for the first hour or so, to figure out who's who. But other than that, yeah, try to see this one if you can, you'll be glad you did.

Perhaps the word that best describes this film is 'remarkable'. It is remarkable that it was made at all, by an Inuit film company, remarkable that it was shot on location in the High Arctic in conditions of winter and summer, remarkable for its absolute authenticity, for its faithfulness both to its subject and to the Inuit culture, which transcends remarkable.

I have been to the High Artic more than once. I have sat in the great silence of the north on the late summer tundra when it turns purple and the winds begin to blow across the ground and make the cotton grass sing. I have heard the snow squeak at thirty-five below zero, as it did in this film; filming in such conditions must have been a nightmare. Metal does strange things at those temperatures; cameras freeze and film becomes brittle and breaks into pieces. Actors get cold and those just standing around get colder. There are no local power sources. And everything must be flown in by transport plane, including everything needed for the film crew to live and eat. There are no hotels and no restaurants, no pub of an evening and the daylight hours for filiming in February or March are very short. And in the summer, there are the flies.

The use of Inuktitut, which is still a living language, preserves that essential atmosphere of complete authenticity; the building of igloos, the darkness inside the communal dwelling with only seal oil lamps, the use of bone and driftwood and dried seaweed for tools and fuel are absolutely authentic. And yet not once did I have the impression of watching a documentary. These were real people, living real lives, using real tools, wearing real clothing, relying on the hunt, on luck and on each other for survival.

The story is set a thousand years ago. It is a legend, but one easily sees that it was a real story, passed down through time in the oral tradition. As it plays itself out - in the slow pace of Inuit time, not the frantic, high-pressure pace of our everyday existence - the rules of survival become clear, family alliances, taboos, social practices. Where survival in a lethal environment is moment to moment, social rules broken have immediate consequences not only for individuals but for the whole community, which usually consisted of no more than a dozen or so related individuals. Jealousy, murder, theft could not be tolerated. The story must not, therefore, be judged by our standards. The only way to see this film is with complete openness; not only must you let the characters tell you the events of their drama, you must let them show you why those events were so destructive and why their way of dealing with it was right for them.

This is about survival in a way that someone living in a city with a supermarket down the street, medical care and central heating can probably never fully grasp. It is not for the small-minded, not for anyone who cannot see past his own prejudices or narrow moral concepts and it is not for the squeamish. Survival is messy; it involves animal guts and blood and pain, it involves you in your own continued existence in a way that we can no longer experience in all our plenty and our ease. This film is also about fierce love, blinding jealousy, hatred, courage and abiding patience - all things we share in our common humanity. But the filmmakers did not present the characters as 'noble savages'. Life was about food, about having it or not having it, about hunting it, gathering it, bringing it home, preparing it, preserving it, eating it and then doing it all over again. All the time. The Inuit are in no way 'primitive' people, whatever that truly means; this is how they survived. We couldn't do it - and perhaps that makes us the primitives.

I was fascinated. It takes a short while to become used to the unfamiliar, the setting, the names, the culture shock. After that, it is compelling, and very, very real. The events unfold tragically and inevitably in a distressingly familiar, a frighteningly human way. And you care deeply about the characters, about what happens to them, about whether they win out - because it is made very clear that they have every chance of not surviving for any number of reasons.

And it is gorgeous. The Artic is immensely photogenic but the cinematography was up to the challenge. The sounds are a whole new experience for those who have never been there - the wind, the squeak and crunch of the snow, the dogs, the singing, the drumming, the rattling of bones, the sounds of the ice.

This film is an experience; if the Arctic has ever intrigued you, this must not be missed.

Set in an Inuit settlement deep in the Arctic Circle, this film is about one problem in particular: evil. This film examines its origins and consequences. It also makes a profound assertion: that the way to get rid of evil is not with more evil, but with forgiveness.

Since all the action takes place within the physical and cultural confines of a Stone Age culture, one might think that the drama lacks emotional depth, vigor, or subtlety. On the contrary, perhaps it's because the movie is bereft of theatrical embellishments and stratagems, the problem comes all the more clearly into focus. Despite the wide cultural divide between the Postmodern world of the twenty first century and the primitive world of our hunter-gatherer forebears, we easily identify with the main characters: their hopes, fears, and ambitions. For that reason alone, Atanarjuat is a remarkable movie.

With respect to the problem of evil, however, what I really love about the film is its emotional complexity, which one wouldn't expect from a three-hour epic revolving around the daily lives of a Stone Age culture. On one level, there is the Shaman and his curse. It's part of the package that comes with the religious beliefs of the people. If one believes in the ability of dead ancestors to come and render assistance to the living, it's also possible for spirits to bring calamity and misfortune to the same. In this film, beliefs that for me are about as tangible as a ghost in a fog come alive.

On another level, Atanarjuat, like Hamlet, delves deep into the origins of evil within the human heart. Good old family values such as love, affection, greed, lust, and murder, come clearly into focus. We're left with judgments about what is right and wrong – judgments that the clan reaches from within the internal logic of its own values – but also with understanding.

This is a fantastic film made by Inuit actors with a will. Unbelievable scenes with wonderful photography and chilling (no pun intended) moments. The tale may be a bit hard to get into as the entire perspective is given from the Inuit point of view from the get-go. Many Western audiences will just have to go along with a great leap of faith. There is much that serious film critics can frown at as many of the scenes are a bit jerky in transition but the heart of the story and they way it unfolds in Inuit fashion is there for all to see and partake in. I sat spellbound for the entirety of the film and wanted more at its ending. As an anthropologist, I certainly appreciated the faithfulness of the representation of Inuit culture in terms of the ethnographic works I've read and as a movie buff, I applaud a wonderful job of Inuit actors and film makers sharing their world with us.

A man runs naked across a plain of ice and snow, his feet bloody and his eyes desperate as he glances back at his hunters. When he falls, even having just come in from the sweltering summer heat, you feel the cold.

This is the best scene in ‘Atanarjuat, the Fast Runner', a movie very different from any other you will have seen. What makes it so special is that it is about and made entirely by the Inuit of Canada. It immerses you in the harsh, nearly desolate world of a tiny Arctic community.

In such a small group, where a few families live in confined spaces, tensions can be explosive. The story is centered around the rivalry of Atanarjuat and Oki over Atuat, a rivalry which echoes that of their fathers, Tulimaq or Sauri, for leadership of the tribe. In the prologue to the main story we see Sauri assassinate his father with the aid of an evil spirit who continues to haunt the tribe. The struggles of the families of Tulimaq and Sauri lead to a betrayal and a murder that sends the naked man running across the ice.

It is a good story, though it is long, slow and sometimes hard to follow. What makes it so memorable is the remarkable lifestyle that it makes seem so real. From dogsleds and ritual combat to seduction and exorcism, we see many of the facets of pre-modern Inuit life, which was built entirely on just two things: water and the flesh and bones of Arctic animals. The acting is completely convincing, the music is sparingly but powerfully used and the cinematography captures both the beauty and cruelty of that vast wilderness in the north of the world. It is something far from the conventions of Hollywood and if you have the patience, you will find it fascinating.

7/10