Q&A WITH HLYNUR PÁLMASON
Hlynur Pálmason is an Icelandic filmmaker and visual artist. He makes films that are informed by his surroundings and often works with friends and family. His feature debut Winter Brothers was well-received at Locarno in 2017, paving the way for a series of films that all premiered at Cannes to rave reviews. The Love That Remains is his fourth feature film, and with the accompanying featurette Joan of Arc, showcases some of Pálmason’s most intimate filmmaking to date. It details the life of a couple contending with separation, and was filmed in such a way that privileges fantastical flourishes and deeply-felt drama over clichéd marital strife.
The Love That Remains is now in theaters across the country.
Q. You’ve worked with your kids on a couple of films at this point. How did they first become involved in your work?
A. When I make films, I surround myself with the friends and people that I like. My kids have just grown up being part of my various projects — video installations, short films, features. Sometimes their roles are small — as extras, for example — but in some projects they have bigger roles.
The Love That Remains has my boys’ biggest acting roles yet, but it came about very naturally. They’re just around and a lot of fun, and they react very naturally to the camera because it’s something that’s been in front of them since they were born. They bring a good energy to the film that I really like. It’s all about creating memories and spending time together.
Q. The Love That Remains was made over an extended period of time that overlaps with some of the other features and shorts you’ve made in the last decade. What are the benefits of this durational approach to filmmaking?
A. The normal way to make a film involves writing something, developing it over a long period of time, trying to finance it, and then shooting it really intensely over a very short period of time with a full crew. But I have always wanted to change that and shoot over a long period of time with a minimal crew. That’s because I enjoy filming things and then reacting to the things I’ve shot.
I’ve always had this creative conflict with what kind of narrative I’m interested in. So, I like to listen to the narrative and allow the film to do whatever it wants — to be a slave to the film and not dictate what it should do.
Q. The creation of Earth Art recurs in your films, as seen in A Painter and, more recently, in The Love That Remains. What is it about this practice that interests you as a filmmaker?
A. Everything I do comes from life. The Earth Art comes from things I’ve been doing for many years. I’ve always worked across painting, sculpture, photography, film, and video. These things bleed into each other. When I knew I wanted to make this film [The Love That Remains] about an artist, I tried to find an artist in Iceland whose work we could actually use. But, I couldn’t.
Instead, we found a great actress and then had to create our own process for her artwork. So, I decided to use my own process, which is from a series called “one winter / process.” It’s a series I do every year in which I cut out metal forms, place them on cotton material, and then let them eat themselves throughout the cold months of winter. It’s a process I’ve always found really beautiful, visual, and physical. I liked the idea that she’d be working the land and Magnús [her ex-husband] would be working the sea.
Q. You’ve likened the process of making The Love That Remains to composing music. Can you elaborate on this point?
A. I write over a long period of time, so when a film begins to really come together, I put the film’s script on a long wall and go through it movement by movement. I find this process very important.
On the wall, I can feel what does and doesn’t work. So, if I don’t rework it before I go into principal photography, I end up feeling the same way about it in the edit and the sound design. I spend a lot of time on the wall and work on the film as if it were a composition. I start from one end and then walk through it to see the film. If there are problems, I’ll write, “We’ve got a problem here,” and tack it on the wall. This process has proven really helpful for me over the last couple of films.
Q. Where is your favorite place to watch movies?
A. At home. We made a small cinema here and I really enjoy watching films with my kids — seeing the films through their experience. My 17-year-old daughter just moved away to study in a town that’s about four hours away and my boys turn 13 this month, so we watched Dazed & Confused right after Christmas before she went back to school. It was a really nice experience. They loved it! Seeing these kinds of films with my kids is really beautiful.
Q. If you could choose to organize one retrospective, whose would it be?
A. Roy Andersson. I feel like not enough people know his films. It’s impossible to make what he makes.
Q. Who, or what, do you think is the future of filmmaking?
A. The future is personal cinema.
Q. What image would you like to end this interview with?
A. One of my boys drew a picture for me and I just really like it. It’s very raw.
