101 REYKJAVIK

"101 Reykjavik". Director: Baltasar Kormákur. Writer: Baltasar Kormákur, based on the novel by Hallgrimur Helgason. Cast: Victoria Abril, Hilmir Snær Gudnason, Hanna María Karlsdóttir, Ólafur Darri Ólafsson, Þrúður Vilhjálmsdóttir & Baltasar Kormákur. Iceland 2000.

This slacker comedy is the directorial debut of Kormákur one of the Icelandic theatre's most popular actors and directors. And a fantastic debut film it proves to be reviving a genre that has been long since become tired and passé in the hands of Hollywood.

Hlynur (Gudnason) is a twenty-something slacker, still living with his mother in their Reykjavik apartment. He lives off of his unemployment benefit and spends his days sleeping or surfing the net for porn and his nights getting drunk with his mates Thröstur (Kormákur) and Marri (Ólafsson), and picking up one night stands at his local bar, but in the artic circle a one night stand can last 6 months.

When one of these conquests Hofi (Vilhjálmsdóttir) gets pregnant Hlynur must start facing up to his responsibilities and the final ties with his carefree youth are severed when his mother Berglind (Karlsdóttir) comes out and her lesbian life-partner Lola Milagros (Abril) moves in, announcing that they need Hlynur's room as a nursery for their forthcoming baby.

Kormákur's script perfectly captures that moment of transition from the carefree days of youth to fully-fledged manhood, at least I assume he does, I still haven’t had to yet. Hlynur despite being emotionally stunted comes across as one of the most developed characters of modern cinema, as his childish actions slowly start to come back on him he somehow worms his way into the audiences affections. The love triangle that develops between Hlynur, his mother and her lesbian life partner is brilliantly realised never for a moment ceasing to ring true, in no small part thanks to Kormákur’s writing and some stand out performances.

Gudnason puts in a perfectly pitched performance as the unsympathetic mummy's boy who gradually grows on as the film progresses and Almondovar favourite Abril puts in another in a string of competent performances as the sexually charged Lola. Karlsdóttir pitches her performances perfectly low-key, drawing out the dry humour of the situations, particularly the brilliant coming-out scene. Kormákur puts in a well-mannered cameo as Hlynur’s slacker friend Thröstur, while Vilhjálmsdóttir never ceases to annoy as Hlynur’s overly clingy sometime girlfriend Hofi.

Kormákur hyper-realistic writing style seems more realistic the more out of hand it gets, particularly when he seizes on the opportunity to turn his rapier like pen on such traditionally uncomfortable situations as the family reunion and the interview with the unemployment, squeezing out every last drop of seat squirming humour from them. Leading up to a somehow inevitable conclusion, demonstrated but occasional flash forwards to it that pepper the film, as Hlynur lights-up and lies down in the snow to die.

The cinematography is a thing of beauty as Kormákur loving show's us around the mid-winter landscape of his hometown. Reykjavik has never looked more bleak than it is as seen through Kormákur's eyes. "The only reason for being here is that you were born here," Thröstur tells the rather bemused Spanish immigrant Lola. The bleak landscapes are perfectly counter pointed by the films pumping soundtrack provided by Reykjavik bar-owner and sometime musician Damon Albarn, which includes multiple versions of the song Lola done in numerous styles including a particularly memorable Flamenco version.

Disaffected youth take heed, the slacker is alive and well and living in Iceland.

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