Indian Comics Irregular #145

What's the story here?

Drawn from events and stories collected in the notebooks of a
real-life Danish explorer and ethnographer who traveled to the
Canadian Arctic in the 1920s, "The Journals of Knud Rasmussen" is
the second feature from the odd couple filmmaking duo of Zacharias
Kunuk (an Inuit) and Norman Cohn (a Jewish New Yorker). Their
dazzling 2000 debut, "Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner," based on an
ancient Inuit legend, was a hit, nabbing the Caméra d'Or at Cannes.
(CBC, 9/29/06)

Well, "The Journals" is definitely no "Fast Runner." That film
converted an ancient myth into a resonant epic as timeless as
anything in Homer. And, perhaps more to the point for our
frustrated grumbler, that film had some fun, some action. By
contrast, this one is a static picture frozen at a precise moment
in time--1922, Igloolik, with an entire culture balanced on the
cusp of irreversible, and subsequently disastrous, change. The
change's impact is embodied in the person of Avva, the last of the
great shamans, who clings to his mystic beliefs and his personal
visions in the face of mounting pressure to sacrifice them to the
new order. (Globe and Mail, 9/7/06)

Kunuk has said that he wanted to make the film for Inuit elders who
are still alive and for a desperate younger generation that sees
little promise in the future.

"It tries to answer two questions that haunted me my whole life:
Who were we? And what happened to us?"

Asked how the film will play for white audiences, whether in Canada
or Copenhagen, Cohn stresses that this is a film about universal
human experiences, especially loss.

"Whether it's a belief system being lost or a way of life being
lost, the 20th century is full of it and it's not just aboriginal
people." (Canadian Press, 9/6/06)

How typical viewers might react:

What they heard, for the past two hours, is abundantly evident--
lots of unrecognizable Inuit actors speaking in their strange
native language. And what they didn't see, for the past two hours,
is crystal clear--barely a hint of action, scarcely more plot and
nary a glimpse of a Brad or a Gwyneth or a Scarlett or a Cruise.
So what exactly did they witness? Must be art, the frustrated are
bound to grumble, because it sure felt like watching paint dry.
Now where's the damn party? (Globe and Mail, 9/7/06)

It's unlikely to connect with as wide an art-film audience as
"Atanarjuat," but does have crossover appeal for hardcore fans of
ethnographic documentary. (Hollywood Reporter, 9/8/06)

But the ending may be worth the wait:

We eventually learn that the group has migrated from its village
after a split with neighbors who were converted to Christianity.
As the Greenlanders convince Avva and company to lead them back to
that outpost, the movie, which until now has been like a
once-removed ethnographic document, becomes a poignant and almost
eerie look at a people whose ancient beliefs are being challenged
by white newcomers. By the time they reach their destination, the
travelers have used up their food; it's understood that their old
neighbors won't be very hospitable to anyone who doesn't come sing
about Jesus with them, leaving Avva with a heartbreaking decision
to make. (Hollywood Reporter, 9/8/06)

[I]t is Avva who must ultimately decide the Catch-22: does he
submit himself and his family to a spiritual death or a physical
one?

Too much shouldn't be disclosed about "The Journals of Knud
Rasmussen's" stunning final scene. It's enough to say that trust
in Cohn and Kunuk's understated and risky approach pays off. This
film is a rare and shattering look at an indigenous community
facing its own cultural extinction. And the emotional wallop of
beholding that struggle reverberates for days that follow. (CBC,
9/29/06)

Rob Schmidt
Blue Corn Comics