Ragnar Bragason
Metalhead (Màlmhaus)

"We will raise the dead
We will raise the dead"

"Raise the dead", the goal that drives the protagonist of the small masterpiece by Icelandic director Ragnar Bragason can be explained by borrowing the refrain of the masterpiece "Raise the dead" by the Venom, a British heavy-metal band that among the first laid the foundations for the more extreme development of a genre (black metal) that sowed music but also controversies in the Nordic countries, especially in the nineties (see Burzum and Black Metal Inner Circle).

The attack is strong, shocking, straight to the stomach, just like a metal riff. Hera (Thora Bjorg Helga) calls her brother Baldur, who is driving the tractor in the family field, to come back in for dinner. The brother, after a middle finger most obviously made to the younger sisters, jumps in his seat, falls into the thresher, and dies violently. On the grass remains only the long hair torn from the boy's head by the tractor. A tachycardic start that seems to wink at the horror genre which, however, despite the theme of the film lending itself with banality to this, Ragnar Bragason magnificently manages to avoid with expertise.

Here the real story begins. From the torment of losing their son, the parents decide to surrender to faith in God. The faith of Hera's parents is very reminiscent of that present in Babette's Feast (1987, Gabriel Axel), also set in a Nordic country like that of the Danish fjords: a sterile faith, not capable of giving a true prospect of happiness and being a companion in pain.
Even Hera becomes a faithful one: a disciple of metal. Her brother becomes a true idol whose memory is to be honored with a whole new lifestyle, all studs, spikes, and blackster clothes. The same room where Baldur slept, decorated with posters of Judas Priest, Annihilator, and many dear friends, becomes a mausoleum that even the parents often visit, with care not to touch anything. Devoted to metal, Hera then picks up a Gibson Flying V and starts playing, producing and recording songs on her own, locking herself in the room and making the house walls shake while the parents are in church.

The parent-daughter relationship deteriorates rapidly in an escalation of affronts first towards the family, then also involving the village and the community. Here Ragnar Bragason gives his best behind the camera. The shots, often long shots framing the cold fields of Iceland and the solitary figure of Hera, manage to communicate all the loneliness of the protagonist without the older brother. Perhaps the best scene is reached with the tribute made in front of the brother’s grave by Hera, who, with an amplifier and guitar, plays a song she had written especially for Baldur. A magnificent character also the priest who arrives in the village: an uncommon prelate who shares a passion for metal so much so that he boasts a great knowledge of the genre and an Iron Maiden tattoo on his arm. Perhaps he is the only one who manages to understand Hera’s pain and, despite a traumatic start to their friendship, makes her understand that to love herself and return to living, she must not abandon her passion for the hardest and rawest music.

The winning move of Metalhead, besides the stunning beauty of the Icelandic landscapes, is its gentle portrayal of a beautiful and enchanting character like young Hera, knowing how to describe rightly her pain and her will to overcome the death of her beloved brother, for whose death she feels responsible. For this reason, when Hera burns the church, the viewer is not shocked, but somehow led to look at the girl tenderly, ultimately understanding her. The turning point of the film is indeed in the arrival of the "metalhead" priest friend.

From here begins the last part of the film, which seems to take on more traits of a comedy. Hera spies on her parents in a moment of true happiness and understands that it is also possible for her to restart a new life where the sadness for her brother's death does not have the final say over everything. Perhaps excessive, however, the scene where, as if also marking a reconciliation with the community, everyone comes together to forgive and rebuild the church together with the incendiary.

Therefore a film that deserves to be seen, even though it has not been dubbed for Italy and can even pull some smiles; unmissable for genre lovers for the highly respectable soundtrack (Megadeth, Venom, Riot …) and for the work of the director who, beyond any imaginable possibility, succeeds in portraying a character like Hera, making her sing in growl while also rendering her lovable and fragile.
The strength of this small film is also in its avoidance of the clichéd confrontation between the world of young people and that of adults who fail to understand them. They are different, perhaps even little compatible with each other, but they can coexist peacefully in the same galaxy. In fact, they can, as happens in the final scene, dance together on the guitars of Symphony of Destruction.