Village at the end of a melting world

Village At The End Of The World

Image by Village At The End Of The World

 By Daniel Nelson

As small villages go, they don’t get much smaller than Niaqornat: population 59. But what a cast of characters. 

There’s teenage Lars who can’t wait to get away; Ilannguaq, the outsider, who is working his way in by collecting the village shit; old Annie, who is related to virtually everyone else; and Karl the hunter who plans to keep the village alive by reopening the fish factory.

Sarah Gavron’s documentary, Village At The End of The World, builds a year-round story of village life, from midnight sun to midday darkness, looking at family secrets and modern accoutrements: Lars shoots a polar bear and films it on his phone and when the ice is weak he abandons huskies for a skidoo.

The thinning ice is an ominous presence.

“Recently, it has been all over the news that scientists are stunned by Greenland’s ice sheet melting over a far larger area than expected,” Gavron has observed. “Almost the entire ice cover of Greenland has experienced some melting at its surface this year [2012]: usually only half of the ice sheet melts naturally during an average summer. This further highlights the precarious existence of Niaqornat and makes it clear that Greenland is now the heartbeat of our planet. I hope that Village At The End of the World connects the audience to this global story.”

Gavron doesn’t hammer the message – she’s more interested in focussing on the people and their foibles. The result is an entrancing, fascinating film, with some touching and amusing lines, whether it’s Lars musing about his failed attempts to engage the man he assumes is his father; an old man’s pleasure in looking out of his window - to catch a glimpse of women; or Ilannguaq on his daily bucket toilet round remarking that “they call me ‘the clock’ – without me the village doesn’t run”.

All human life is here, but miniaturised into a small, remote, struggling community on the north-west edge of a large island, dependent on an occasional supply ship for food they cannot themselves grow and setting up little stalls for the even more occasional cruise ship.

It’s a minor gem.