Atanarjuat - La légende de l'homme rapide

Have you ever seen a movie in which now and then you see a man urinating and it has no special function?

This film implies absolute purity. It is maximal naturalism in the middle of nowhere, at a place that seems do dream-like, so little real to most of us. As most stories set in very cold and barren regions, Atanarjuat has that touch of existentialism. And really, the story is quite simple, a classic family revenge plot like they are often peopled by Ancient Greek gods and goddesses.

In the beginning, you have no idea what it is all about and who is in which way related to whom – actually all the characters look the same in their thick clothes. But it doesn't really matter because you get enchanted by the beauty of the combination of light and snow, white and yellow, and maybe by the interesting sound of Inuktitut, the Canadian Inuit's language. Or by the sound of their boots as they press the snow again and again. Quite a lot to be impressed with.

Slowly – very slowly, the plot unfolds, the characters gain image, and you become completely absorbed into a mysterious and strange legend that happened long-long ago and aat a place very distant from us, both geographically and mentally.

Interesting enough that, after the end of the actual story, the filmmakers attached some `making-of' shots as they are quite commonly known from Jackie Chan movies. Suddenly, we see the people we just got to know wearing modern clothes and making jokes. And this seems weird to us. Before we leave the theatre, we are gently lead back to reality.

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

Pretty well guaranteed to be the only Inuit film you will ever see. This is the story of two brothers and the trouble caused to them by a neighbouring family/tribe and some kind of evil spirit. The mystical elements are fairly low key and the story revolves around the always popular themes of jealousy, betrayal, rivalry and love.

If the plot is nothing new, the people it portrays are. As the story progresses almost documentary like details of hunting, igloo-building, celebrations and other aspects of life in the frozen north of Canada are provided. Much of the movies' strength comes the sheer originality of the culture. When is the last time you saw an Inuit man running naked across the ice being pursued by murderers in seal skins?

The cinematography is particularly striking, with the powerful light of the Arctic giving the film its own character. Vast landscapes of snow and ice are contrasted with the confines of the igloo and tent. Very impressive for a first time director.

The film would probably have been improved by some judicious editing. As you enter the third hour your desire to see another set of feet trudging through the snow is a little limited.

Well crafted, full of fascinating details and certainly one of a kind.

I saw this movie last night and went to bed without words. After having a chance to sleep on it, it is now starting to sink in how truly amazing this movie was. You will be first blown away by the fact that this movie even exists. It is truly unprecedented in every sense of the word. I don't remember seeing anything like it, since maybe "Nanook of the North", which would be a stretch. Unlike "Nanook", this movie is shot from the Inuit perspective, the characters are not looked upon as anthropological specimens. They are people living in a fragile existence, where any wrong move could mean sure death.

The actors are astonishing, and it must have been so terribly cold up there, that you know this was a labor of love for the production team. The scenery is astonishing. Almost everyone who participated in this production was full-blooded Inuit. It is a beautiful story based on an Inuit legend that exists on many different levels and subplots, etc. All told on the frozen tundra without ANY indication given about the timeframe, or even century, in which it was set.

I am just astonished at the painstaking attention to historical detail. I have read many books on Inuit culture, and most everything I have read was visualized in this movie, the social structure, the power of the patriarch, the constant looming of starvation, the role of the hunter/husband, the insubordination of women (pre-arranged marriages), the obsession with taboo and curses, the fine art of building igloos and staying warm in -60 temps, and yet, through all the hardships, there was so much happiness. They even showed how the dogs were handled and treated, even down to the way they would slicken their sledge rails by spitting small amounts of water on them until a layer of slick frozen ice formed, which makes the sledges slide easier over the pack ice. The one thing that I thought of today was how the movie was TOTALLY absent of the white, European influence. Their knives were made from caribou horns; they had no metal knives or metal cookware, which indicates that the movie was purposely based on a time before the Inuit's first contact with white men.

It has a slow start, it's only fault. You will be a bit confused at first, trying to understand the characters and what exactly is happening, but then it starts to really suck you in, you begin to love the protagonists, who are physically beautiful people, and then you will grow to hate the antagonists, who are mean and undesirable. Afterwards, you will realize that almost all of these people, cast and crew, were full-blooded Inuit. You will then want to immediately see it again and demand a documentary on the making of this film. You will want to know who these people are, what they do in their normal lives, because most of these actors are making their big screen debut. The end of the movie gives you a quick behind-the-scenes peek, but it serves as only a small appetizer to a bigger feast. Most importantly, your respect for their pride and perseverance of their culture will increase ten-fold

It tells a legend from the two thousand years ago, about Atanarjuat, who incurs the jealous enmity of Oki when he marries Atuat… Oki kills Atanarjuat's brother, but Atanarjuat escapes in a stunning sequence, running naked across the ice floes, outstripping his pursuers until, his feet torn and bloody, he is taken in by a friendly sorcerer…

The motion picture concedes nothing in the way of authenticity, with sequences that show in realistic detail the training of sled-dogs, cutting up animal carcasses or making an igloo… But the convincing ethnographic elements only serve to intensify the compelling story and characters, which take on a truly epic dimension…

If the purpose of a national cinema is to represent the culture of the peoples it belongs to, then "Atanarjuat" achieves this victoriously, both the content of the film and the manner of its telling being wholly specific to Canada, yet in the process achieving a universal appeal