Godland: A Lesson in Missions (Volaða land/Vanskabte land)
It is the 19th century. A young, idealistic Priest (Lutheran?) is sent from Danish Church HQ to a remote island, which is more Icelandic than the Danish he’s used to. To get there — he could sail easily, or he could sail, hire some pack horses, patronise the natives wisdom and experience, and take photographs along the way, ‘experiencing’ the people and the landscape (and the spiritual temperature). Having culturally immersed himself, when he gets to the village, he’s going to help them build a church and run it himself.
While he really could have learnt some lessons from The Mission on how to relate to and see people, he is being advised by someone who looks like they’ve just stepped out of a Rembrandt painting — full on ruff and all! His strangeness and ‘foreignness’ in the landscape (and in contrast to the local people) is as much a part of the film; as his and our reactions to it (and the people). Rather than going in as a servant, he is the leader, he really does know best and he is doing God’s will. Ignoring the fact that everyone is created by God in God’s image…and that it is not good for man to be alone…No wonder the sailors/fishermen laugh at him and the photograph he wants to take.
Inspired by a set of 7 photographic wet plates taken by a priest and buried in a box, this is part fairy tale and part morality tale/saga, and really keeps you on your toes, much like In The Name of The Rose or Black Robe. It is also very funny in parts. The poor priest Lucas (Elliott Crosset Hove) is very sea sick — and very glad of dry land. He is a terrible horseman too, which is unfortunate because he’s on a trail across a volcanic landscape. He struggles to learn the language — lots of words for describing rain alone! But he wants to learn…Not sure why he loses the beard — beards seem to be big in the village!
Social class and cultural snobbery come into the drama in lots of small and big ways. There is a Danish translator who Lucas is friends with and respects; Ragnar the Icelandic guide is treated (Ingvar Sigurðsson) more as a working class man and servant, very much kept at a distance and in his ‘place’. His skills and knowledge aren’t respected and Lucas spends a lot of time dismissively saying that he can’t understand him. Not sure if this is accent, dialect, class, cultural, or Lucas not trying hard enough (or even feeling intimidated by Ragnar, so avoiding him) — he doesn’t really try to understand him or befriend him.
There is also huge culture clash as Ragnar makes Lucas feel stupid — he can’t ride or control his horse, he overrides Ragnar’s seasoned judgements and abandons food and storytelling round the fire to go off and take photographs of epic, peopleless landscapes. Ragnar shows off his physique and his fish catching skills — we feel the men’s ego’s and pride silently clashing against each other. See how many fish I’ve caught — can you do that Lucas? Urban/rural, class, age, even what it means to be a man are explored here, very subtly. We could see Lucas as a typical 19th’. century coloniser, bringing modernity and ‘progress’ and ‘civilisation’ to people he clearly considers ‘lesser’ (even if he doesn’t outwardly express this). Or maybe Lucas see himself more in the poetic traditional, a spiritual artist, communing with creation, maybe he doesn’t mean to be dismissive and patronising, just language learning is hard and culture hard to understand, as is humility in making mistakes. He’s sensitive afterall to being thought stupid or a failture, or of letting Danish Church HQ down. What would it have been like if he could have laid down his pride and sought to serve others, rather than holding back such as in the wrestling scene, or in the wedding? What is his place in this extraordinary new world and how will it make it there?
But Iceland is a different world — they do things differently there. Lucas has to be stopped from dragging his horse (or maybe even pony) to destruction up the roughest path of a volcanic-y crop; he insists on crossing a river when it’s too high to the loss of his friend and translator. He becomes very, very ill — noticed and rescued by Ragnar and team, and awakes, transported to a Danish/Icelandic hybrid village and ‘civilisation’. Lucas also seems to have forgotten to learn any thankfulness, gratitude or humility along the way.
In a hilarious/excruciating cultural clash moment, Lucas is kicked out by his host (the local grandee, Carl) because he isn’t safe to be around young girls. He is teased by the younger daughter (who loves her horses), Ida (Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir), and an educated ticket back to all things Denmark for the older daughter Anna (Vic Carmen Sonne). Both of them are independent, excellent horsewomen and yet also motherless — Anna seems to be acting as a housekeeper to her father, without any servants. Yet she dreams of better things and is clearly bored talking to the other women at a local wedding. Lucas intrigues her because he’s different to the other men. Her father sees this too and warns her against him — perhaps she wants to be girlish again as she stops wearing her hair up and appears very young all of a sudden, (whilst exhibiting strong adult emotions and desires). Does Anna feel that she’s being made old before her time, pushed into places and roles she doesn’t want?
Rather to seeking to wonder or to engage, Lucas is appalled by the state of things. Snobbishly (or perhaps wanting to do things the right ‘Danish’ way, he won’t marry a local couple until there is a finished church building. Ragnar cheers things up by playing some music. He also provides Lucas with the potential for a discipleship class or two by asking how to become a man of God. Having been so dismissive throughout, this is an amazing moment to connect, to share the love and joy of knowing God, to crack open a Bible and learn together, and Lucas completely blows it — listing rules, and reluctant to acknowledge Ragnar at all.
Things come to a head when Ragnar asks for a photograph before leaving, and Lucas pretends he can’t hear, then can’t or won’t, and they fight, resulting in a manslaughter on Lucas’s part. Unfortunately he then has to lead the first church service in the fully completed church — awkward doesn’t even begin to describe it. The priest steals a horse and flees, pursued by Carl, to an unexpected and saga-ish ending.
As a Christian and for future missionaries, what can we learn from this? On one hand, Lucas’s overwhelming fear and trauma in an unexpected landscape which literally fights back — volcanoes! and harsh winters, and sickness inducing seas. It is also hard and painful to engage and connect with people who appear outwardly unsympathetic — rough, critical, practically efficient and like the landscape, harsh and changeable, and who make you feel constantly foolish and failing, an outsider. Lucas is right when he says he can’t do it — only God can! Rather than seeing his own frailty, weakness and vulnerabilities, Lucas (in his arrogance and trauma) makes himself God-like and seeks to lead, even to crush.
There were so many opportunities to learn the cultural language — although he needs a translator for Ragnor. The man wanted to know more about God! and Lucas is a man who claims to know God. Ragnor also offered opportunities for gratitude and thankfulness, appreciation — providing caught and cooked fish, a friendly working dog, getting Lucas safely to to the village, helping build the church. He even wanted a photograph — what an opportunity to explain about photography, Lucas’s passion! Not only had Lucas not learnt to look, but he didn’t seek to learn or hear others, especially those on the social/cultural margins — he was the bringer and the giver, not the people he was coming to be with. He didn’t want to be part of, enjoy the differences — painful as they were to him at times, nor did he seek to listen. Lucas’s carelessness manifests in physical things too — he loses horses, leaves gates to corrals open, or even try to get the rules of the new culture and environment he’s in. He doesn’t ever try to tell stories to engage with the story telling, communal culture which exists, matching strangeness with strangeness. Only with Anna does to seem to be able to speak, and to an extent, listen to Ida.
Sadly it is also a bit typical as the priest goes bad, mad and distracted — romancing Anna, angering the local bigwig and going through the motions of faith without the reality. Would have been really interesting to see something different here — what if, just like the physical wrestling, we actually saw someone wrestling with God, trying to continue to believe and follow, even when life is really hard? Why can’t Lucas be more 20schemes or Duncan Forbes — YouTube
Ultimately the film asks where is God in a land which doesn’t seem to have any obvious signs of Him, could be called chaos if you didn’t know any better? Be humble, learn to listen and look , be a servant— perhaps have more curiosity like Ida, as she stands on her horse bareback and has learnt to bridge cultures — translating backwards and forwards, actively listening, connecting and engaging. Ragnar’s confession is immensely moving and a great spiritual moment — which Lucas wastes, carelessly again missing a moment by reacting in rage and malice. This could have been a huge moment of forgiveness and repentance, and for moving towards mutual understanding, they both need God in their lives and hearts, both are sinners.
Not only does it make you think, but it has a beautiful soundtrack (Alex Zhang Hungtai) and cinematography (Maria von Hausswolff), utilising the seasonal and geological changes of the world we’re in to add to the sense of overwhelm, wonder and spectacle. And the dog’s acting is fantastic! Overall, it is a character driven film, the painful and humiliating classist nuances of Carl dismissing Ragnar as a typical wine wasting Icelander, or of Anna and Ida’s lives and restrictions are powerfully delivered.
