Director: Baltasar Kormákur
Talent: Ólafur Darri Ólafsson, Jóhann G. Jóhannsson, Þorbjörg Helga Þorgilsdóttir
Release Date: 12th July 2013
Director Baltasar Kormákur is an interesting figure on the international filmmaking scene, dividing his time between making rich, personal films in the European auteurist tradition and directing big Hollywood flicks that involve Mark Wahlberg shouting at things. His latest is 2012’s quiet festival darling, The Deep, the true story of an Icelandic fisherman’s remarkable survival after a famous shipwreck.
The first half of the film deals with the wreck itself and how Gully, the fattest crew member (I promise that’s plot-relevant) survives in the near-frozen Atlantic. Kormákur handles his subjects with a kind of detailed cinematic compassion often missing true story dramas – he spends time showing us around the visibly lived-in homes of the crew members and fleshing out their peculiar family relationships. The delicate, meticulous handling of this world helps prevent the film from indulging in fantasy, a serious hazard given the nature of the story and its public profile in Iceland.
The second half of the film deals with the scientific and religious speculation that accompanied Gully’s bizarre story but resists the temptation to make any determinations of its own. Instead, Kormákur defers to the character’s pain as the locus of the drama. As the credits roll and the real Gully’s contemporary TV interviews begin to play, we’re given the fairly blunt reminder that this footage, footage that ordinary Icelanders are very familiar with, comes loaded with a human story that’s both strange and traumatic – it’s not just a pub-talk curiosity.
How far this dynamic translates to cinemagoers not raised in Iceland (I wasn’t raised in Iceland, but I am a big fan) is tough to gauge – but the film’s visual elegance is, I suspect, enough to convey the intended emotion. Gully’s lonely journey back to land is shot intelligently and effectively, establishing the extraordinary black vastness of the Atlantic before pulling the camera back to the very surface of ocean, almost physically plugging us into the character’s struggle to keep his head above water.
Unfortunately, for all the richness of the film’s first half, the second half feels unwieldy or poorly constructed. It’s a tough sensation to pin down because the philosophical intent is smart and worthwhile, but the transition of the narrative from an unambiguous journey toward a clear destination to a more directionless tone is jarring. You’re left with the feeling that the final act failed to deliver on the promises made by the climax of the previous act and it’s a shame. Its flaws being perhaps an inevitable consequence of the film’s “true story” model, The Deep is nevertheless an insightful and very capably deployed story about separating real experiences from popular myth-making. A unique vision and one you’ve not likely experienced before.
