Northern Lights
Opens Fri Dec 1 at the Varsity.

ICELAND'S CLAIM for international fame has been a cause fronted by dexterous pop-opus Björk-- and little else, really. I recall the career of an Icelandic soccer player by the name of Arnar Gudjohnson, whose torrid form in front of the goal for Leicester City earned him many an excellent nickname. Arnar's fame, however, always seemed more likely to veer off toward anonymity rather than super-stardom.

Fortunately for filmgoers, the Icelandic film industry is growing dissatisfied with anonymity. The industry is efficiently run and is enjoying the sort of international interest that culminated in a first-ever Academy Award nomination for 1992's Children of Nature. The primary formula behind this success has been rooted first in the superb technical quality of the productions, and second in the nation's breathtaking scenery. Indeed, it was president Vigdis Finnbogadottir herself who once stated that Iceland "might well have been created with filmmakers in mind." The landscape is so powerful, that it forces a more symbolic rather than verbal approach to filmmaking, lest a movie suffer under the weight of too many epic propositions.

This week's Northern Lights film series offers up a handful of Iceland's finest. There's the aforementioned Children of Nature, the story of an old farmer who decides to give up his solitary rural existence in favor of a city that he ultimately fails to adjust to. There is also Tears of Stone, the story of an Icelandic composer who is torn between his love for music and the love he holds for his wife and two children. Movie Days is a coming-of-age tale of a young boy that pays homage to the power of storytelling and film-making. Each film lacks nothing in the departments of commercial quality, sound dramatic pace, technical proficiency, and endearing Icelandic country folk who very often smudge the lines between lovable country sensibility and even more lovable village idiocy (watch out for a series of poorly acted staggering drunks).