An unsettling vision of hungry, naked, and wandering souls searching for contact with those they left behind as they emerge through the Icelandic ice.
I went to considerable lengths to see the Icelandic criminal drama series Trapped by Baltasar Kormakur before it was made available on streaming sites in the US because I was so captivated by it. The latest series from the director has finally launched on Netflix, and it is just as captivating and expertly made as his earlier work.
Katla is a similar basic, character-driven tale about trauma and provincialism in small towns to Trapped. Katla, however, also incorporates themes of mystery, folklore, and the paranormal. The compelling story develops in this filmmaker’s assured hands with startling simplicity and intensity.
The scene is the tiny, isolated settlement of Vik in Iceland, where a recent eruption of the active subglacial volcano Katla has made the surroundings quite poisonous and hostile. A motley crew of meteorologists, rescuers in the bush, and brave local farmers continue. A female figure covered in mud and ash appears from the glacier above the volcano at the start of the series and lumbers toward the village.
The citizens of the area are still in shock a year after the volcano erupted; some are grieving for loved ones who perished in the eruption, while others are still struggling to get over earlier traumas. These people’s interwoven suffering sits at the heart of a mystery that surrounds them all and is based on many of the villagers’ tragic pasts.
A group of rescuers finds the unidentified woman, including Grima, whose father Thor (Icelandic actor Ingvar Sigursson, who has been in the Justice League movies, Everest, Trapped, and many other roles) appears to recognize the odd guest.
The woman introduces herself as Gunhild and claims to work at a nearby hotel. It turns out that twenty years ago, a woman by the name of Gunhild worked there. At least it is what the long-time hotel proprietor, a peculiar and witchy woman herself, tells us. She seems unconcerned but intrigued by the mystery. Gunhild makes her pregnancy announcement while she recovers in the hospital while carrying her lover’s child.
Grima, played by pop artist Gudrun Eyfjord in her acting debut, is one of the show’s original characters. Due to the abduction of her sister Asa a year ago and the recent passing of her mother, Grima and her farmer husband Kjartan have grown distant from one another.
Not quite a day has passed since Gunhild’s arrival when another mysterious female figure, equally nude and covered in dirt, comes. She resembles Asa, Grima’s sister, who vanished down an icy crevasse while on a rescue attempt the previous year. Her demise had been assumed.
Strange things are obviously happening at this stage. In addition to being alarmed by the return of his daughter, Gunhild, with whom he had a relationship in the past, also disturbs Thor. But given that she is much older and currently resides in Sweden, it is improbable that this is the “genuine” Gunhild.
More mud-covered individuals who have vanished or gone missing emerge from the glacier while frightened and exposed. But even if village life has gone on without them, they, like Gunhild and Asa, know who they are and where they belong.
Even the most ardent scientists are mesmerized by the phenomenon because ghosts from the past keep popping up in their life. It is so strange and yet so physical. But in each instance, the discovery of the missing or their younger selves sets off a series of challenging feelings, including reckonings with loss, regret, and fury.
Although the explanation for these occurrences is a little hazy—part meteorological, part folkloric—it is no less fascinating for being so open-ended. What would happen if we found a lost piece of ourselves all of a sudden? Would we run away in dread or be able to make peace with it? The main idea might seem outlandish, but Kormakur, a gifted storyteller helped by a skilled writing team, skillfully grounds the strange incidents in the personal aspects of the characters’ lives.
Also read: Decision to leave: An Amazing Crime Drama with hints of Romance
The cast, which is primarily composed of actors from Iceland, is excellent. The production, which was shot on-site in Vik, was hindered by pandemic challenges and delays. A magnificent, ethereal score written by Högni Egilsson and played by the Icelandic Symphony orchestra contrasts with the raw reality of the environment.
After each episode, the story arc is enhanced and defined by the subtle and delicate use of music. It is the perfect backdrop to Katla’s mesmerizing illustration of naked, starving, and abandoned souls looking for closure with people they left behind as they emerge through the ice.
