Hlynur Pálmason, on Godland: “I wanted the film to slowly exhaust you, to seep into your bones”
Because faith often calls for bold acts, I wouldn’t hesitate to say – hand on heart – that decades from now we’ll look back on Godland as one of the defining masterpieces of world cinema. Hlynur Pálmason’s film has a monumental feel to it, unfolding the story of a Danish priest sent to photograph Iceland – tested by faith, by his own pride, and by nature itself. Yet beyond its religious overtones, the film’s true core lies in its pace. Long, heavy, and overwhelming, it draws the viewer into the same endless stillness as the wet-collodion photographic process the priest devotes himself to – a kind of modern martyrdom in the Nordic cold.
Graduated with a BA in film directing and a MA in film studies from UNATC; she's also studied history of art. Also collaborates with the Acoperisul de Sticla film magazine and is a former coordinator of FILM MENU. She's dedicated herself to '60-'70s Japanese cinema and Irish post-punk music bands. Still keeps a picture of Leslie Cheung in her wallet.
