Cast: Hilmir Snær Guonason, Victoria Abril, Hanna María Karlsdottir, Baltasar Kormakur, Olafur Darri Olafsson, Pruour Vilhjalmsdottir
Director: Baltasar Kormakur
Producers: Baltasar Kormakur, Thorfinnur Omarsson, Ingvar Thordarson
Screenplay: Baltasar Kormakur, based on the novel by Hallgrimur Helgason
Cinematography: Peter Steuger
Music: Damon Albarn, Einar Orn Benediktsson
U.S. Distributor: Menemsha Films
In Icelandic and English with subtitles
It's often said that truth is stranger than fiction, and nowhere is that more evident than in 101 Reykjavik, which is supposedly based, albeit loosely, on factual events. Even though its content and structure are drawn from a novel by Hallgrimur Helgason, director Baltasar Kormakur (one of the stars of fellow Icelandic filmmaker Fredrik Thor Fridriksson's recent festival favorite, Angels of the Universe) asserts that aspects of his picture are autobiographical, although he hastens to add that none of them are related to the movie's salacious elements. 101 Reykjavik tells a tale of what people do during winter in a country where the sun doesn't shine, snow comes down almost non-stop, and even "the ghosts are bored." In fact, as the lead character states, "the only reason anyone lives [in Iceland] is because they're born here."
101 Reykjavik is an offbeat comedy that introduces us to Hlynur (Hilmir Snaer), a 28-year old man who defines the word "loser." Hlynur spends his days lying in bed, surfing the Internet for porn sites, and generally doing nothing worthwhile. He still lives with his mother, and, on those rare occasions when he ventures out of the house, it's to get plastered at the local pub. He has a girlfriend of sorts, whom he treats badly, doing things like slipping out of her bed in the middle of the night and closing the door in her face after she gives him a Christmas present. For Hlynur, life is just a vacation from death. Then Lola (Victoria Abril), a Spanish flamenco teacher and his mother's lesbian lover, enters his world. He is attracted to her, and they eventually have a one-night stand that results in Lola's pregnancy. And, since Lola is practically married to Hlynur's mother, that puts him in the bizarre position of essentially being his son's brother, or his brother's father.
101 Reykjavik uses a combination of humor, pathos, and general weirdness to good effect. Unfortunately, watching this movie requires viewers to spend 100 minutes in the company of Hlynur, who is a rather reprehensible human being. He never takes responsibility for his actions, is nasty to just about everyone, and, when the chips are down, he sinks into a morass of self-pity. Most of us have known people like Hylnur, and our best moments with them are usually when they're out of our lives.
Nevertheless, despite the unpleasant protagonist, it's hard not to appreciate what the film has to offer, dark and eccentric though it may be. 101 Reykjavik offers audiences an unvarnished look into some of the ins-and-outs of life in Iceland - not that we're supposed to think that every family situation is as convoluted as this one. In his portrayal of the country, Kormakur shows aspects that many international viewers will not be familiar with. In addition to its cultural exposé, 101 Reykjavik has the added attractions of a wonderfully spirited performance by Victoria Abril (probably best known for her role in Almodovar's Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!), a refreshingly frank outlook on sexuality, and a memorable soundtrack. With its nods to Oedipus and Hamlet, this motion picture presents audiences with a lot to digest, and provides a frothy chaser to wash it down with. It is the latest testament to the originality of the Icelandic film community, which is slowly and surely gaining international recognition. (The 2001 Toronto International Film Festival will have a program devoted exclusively to movies from Iceland.)
© 2001 James Berardinelli