(ATANARJUAT)
**** (out of ****)
Starring Natar Ungalaaq, Sylvia Ivalu, Peter-Henry Arnatsiaq, Lucy Tulugarjuk, and Madeline Ivalu.
Directed by Zacharias Kunuk & written by Paul Apak Angilirq
2000 (not widely released until 2002) R
Dozen-or-So Best Films of 2002
Part of the magic of cinema—and of all the arts—is its ability to transport us to a far-off time and place. Rarely has any film taken us to, and inside, a land as remote as the Arctic Circle of “The Fast Runner.” I cannot imagine a human culture made more alien by their environment than the Inuit. They have no wood, no metal, no permanent homes, no farming, and no large communities. The snow that comprises their entire world forbids these things. When Atanarjuat (that means Fast Runner) plays tag with the children, it is a pointless yet poignant experience, because in the endless field of snow the children have no place to hide. Even their language, in all the alien beauty of its growls and gutturals, sounds like it’s from another planet. This is the first feature-length film spoken entirely in Inuit, with a totally Inuit crew (although I did see the name “Cohen” pop up once in the closing credits). I’ve heard no one seriously suggest replacing the film’s subtitles with dubbing, and thank God for that.
If “The Fast Runner” were only a documentary about the Inuit culture I have no doubt it would have still engrossed me. But in the midst of the amazing foreign-ness of “The Fast Runner” emerges a story that resembles Shakespeare. It centers on the kind of myth that every culture seems to have, involving evil spirits, jealousy, infidelity, exorcism, and redemption. The potential for melodrama is tempered by the kind of restrained acting characteristic of the early 1970s, and a directorial approach by Zacharias Kunuk that switches effortlessly between a gritty, documentary-style, and a wordless visual poetry distantly related to Terence Malick’s “Days of Heaven” (1978) and Nicolas Roeg’s “Walkabout” (1971).
We see a community of thirty or forty, living off seal in the winter and caribou in the summer. At first we wonder if we are beginning the story at the end and about to witness a flashback, but this is not the case. Time appears to move in cycles for these people; we see children that have the same names as their grandparents not out of respect but because of a sense of reincarnation. Atanarjuat and Oki both want the same woman. Her heart is with one but she is betrothed to another. In a larger community with more resources hatreds might be allowed to simmer secretly, but everything is open in the Arctic. No one in so small a group can tell a lie or be expected to keep a secret, not when they all sleep naked in the same tent. Oki cannot murder Fast Runner no matter how much he wants to because that would be like destroying a tenth of the adult male population of their community. So the dispute is resolved in an igloo in front of everyone, in a fight of terrible harshness, in which the two men take turns punching each other in the head. The victor becomes proud and the vanquished seethes with resentment. Both pride and enmity leads to infidelity, betrayal, murder, and banishment, but only one of the two combatants understands the signs around him and redeems himself before it is too late.
How the characters survive in the white cold never becomes a backdrop or a subplot; the story of this feud seems entwined with all the characters do to stay alive. We see how igloos are built, how to field dress a seal, how to turn lard into a candle, and a dozen other routines to stave off the cold. Every scene rings with authenticity because the cast does not contain a single professional actor.
Probably for financial reasons “The Fast Runner” was shot entirely on digital video, and it shows. Yet this lower quality of image does not detract from the overall experience. I tried to imagine “The Fast Runner” looking as good as “Fargo” (1996) or the recent “Insomnia” (2002), but the grainy, slightly off-color interpretation of digital video provides a hazy, memory-style feel that seems to fit. The film has many characters, some who come and go without even getting a name, and, like the films of the 1970s, is not concerned with us getting to know all of them. Like “Gosford Park” (2001), the first viewing of “The Fast Runner” is simply to get the lay of the country and of the faces. The second time through is for picking up the exact relationships and names.
I have no idea if an actual Inuit would see “The Fast Runner” with any more interest than I would get from watching a guy pumping gas. I can’t speak for any other experience of the film besides my own, but coming from a culture with almost nothing in common with the Inuit, I found this tale of their everyday life mixed with their mysticism to be completely absorbing. “The Fast Runner” keeps running for about three hours, and for that entire time I felt submerged in another place, with other people, in an aura of mystery and cold realism, and I might have even been able to watch for another hour more.
P.S. “The Fast Runner’s” potential at the Academy Awards: as I write this, in August, I wonder what “The Fast Runner’s” fate might be come Oscar time. The movie is copyrighted 2000, which may or may not make it ineligible for the 2002 Academy Awards. I’m not sure what the exact rules are; Clive Owen was denied a potential acting nomination in 2000 for “Croupier” because it was shown on Finnish television in 1998, but Jessica Lange won for "Blue Sky" two years after it was made. Assuming “The Fast Runner” is eligible, it definitely deserves mention in the Foreign Language Film category. As for the prestige awards—picture, directing, writing, acting—“The Fast Runner” will probably not be a huge commercial success and, despite its virtually unanimous critical acclaim, its relative obscurity and absence of English will probably keep it off the ballot. But I’ll keep my fingers crossed.
Finished August 7, 2002
Copyright 2002 Friday and Saturday Night