And who says Icelandics don’t have a sense of humor?
Director Hafsteinn Gunnar Sigurðsson challenges that notion by bringing the dark comedy Under the Tree (Undir Trénu) to American audiences this Friday. Selected as the Icelandic entry for Best Foreign Language Film at the 90th Academy Awards, the plotline is quite simple, but oh how quickly everything gets turned on its head. What starts out as a small dispute between next-door neighbors
A tree is often regarded as symbolizing family, ancestry, and even a form of rebirth, but that is far from the case in this dark comedy – set on a quiet street in a suburb of Reykjavik, Iceland. Here, a single tree is at the center of what turns out to be some of the most vulgar and unnecessary violence between two neighbors. Inga (Edda Björgvinsdóttir) and Baldvin (Sigurður Sigurjónsson) are a sharp, older couple whose large tree in their backyard casts a shadow onto their neighbor’s, Konrad (Þorsteinn Bachmann) and Eybjorg (Selma Björnsdóttir), sun deck. After numerous requests to cut down the tree are ignored, passive-aggressive pranks on each other start occurring, like the slashing of car tires and stealing garden gnomes. This back and forth bickering escalates drastically as blood, sweat, and tears are soon shed in the attempt to out-do each other, with the expectation that the “winner” will get to decide the fate of the problematic tree.
As if the stress of the quarrel wasn’t enough, Inga and Baldvin’s son, Atli (Steinþór Hróar Steinþórsson), has recently moved back into their home after his wife Agnes (Lára Jóhanna Jónsdóttir) accuses him of adultery. Dealing with the aftermath of a dissolving marriage and fighting for custody of his four-year-old daughter, Atli finds himself wrapped up in the tree debacle as well.
What is so darkly comedic about ‘Under the Tree’ is the question of how such a mundane and minor dispute becomes so blown out of proportion.
What is so darkly comedic about Under the Tree is the question of how such a mundane and minor dispute becomes so blown out of proportion. The methods used by each party involved are responses that only seem capable of happening in dreams, or in this case, nightmares. However, the fact that Iceland doesn’t get a lot of sun creates an understandable reaction to any hindrance to that precious light, and doing so could very well constitute breaking out the chainsaws and guns.
Each person in front of the camera does a fantastic job of building suspension with every frantic phone call, rash decision, and emotionally unstable reaction. Edda Björgvinsdóttir steals the show as Inga, the feisty older woman who proves she is willing to do whatever it takes to not only succeed but make sure her opponent fails. It’s a competitive quality that most people have buried somewhere within themselves but would never think of acting on to this degree.
Behind the lens, the visual style of Under the Sun highlights the country’s beauty and tranquility as it projects Iceland with a naturalistic and softened aesthetic. Director Hafsteinn Gunnar Sigurðsson and cinematographer Monika Lenczewska notably pull design inspiration from famed directors including Joachim Trier, Ruben Östlund, David Lynch, Lynne Ramsay, and Derek Cianfrance, to name a few. The film’s score is another wonderful surprise for the senses. Composer Daniel Bjarnason beautifully moves the film along its journey, with each high and low point accompanied by the subtle notes that Icelandic music is known for.
With tonal similarities to Greek director Yorgos Lanthimos’ work, specifically, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Under the Tree is a refreshing film by a young visionary. It is fantastical and darkly frightening, leaving audiences uneasy about whether to laugh or be horrified at the situation unfolding in front of them. And while this was most likely not the film’s intention, Under the Tree also serves as an oddly cautionary tale about thinking twice before choosing who, and how, to confront someone over seemingly trivial matters.
‘Under the Tree’ is not rated. 89 minutes. Opening this Friday at Laemmle’s Royal Theatre.
