Godland (2023)

At the end of the nineteenth century, Elliot Crosset Hove’s Lucas is a young Danish priest sent to a remote part of Iceland to a pioneer community, tasked with building a church and installing himself as their parish priest. The journey is arduous, with Lucas carrying his camera tripod, desperate to be the first person to take pictures at his new community. The camera is his cross to bear, the invocation of Christ himself isn’t exactly subtle, nor does it mean to be. As Lucas travels further into the country, and himself, he is slowly driven to the brink of madness, helped and hindered by his translator (Hilmar Gudjónsson) who lives and breathes the terrain on which Lucas is traipsing. What makes Godland such an astonishing film is not just its sublime performances from its main characters, but the cinematography from Maria von Hausswolff. Sweeping vistas of Iceland offer you the full beauty and brutality of the landscape, culminating in one of the most impressive final sequences of the year. To describe it would give away the films ending, and wouldn’t even begin to do it any justice. Godland is easily the most beautiful film of the year so far, not just for its visual substance, but also for its impressive dive into the highs and lows of belief and isolation.

8.2/10