Format: Streaming video from AMC+ on Fire!
Lycanthropy is a pretty common trope not just in movies, but in culture. We tend to think “werewolves” when the idea comes up, but different cultures have different animals that evil people turn into. The DC character King Shark is based off the Hawaiian legend of Nanaue, a man who could turn into a shark. Not all of the were-creatures are as viscerally threatening as a wolf or a shark. Case in point is The White Reindeer (Valkoinen peura), a Finnish horror film where the title character is a shapeshifter.
The White Reindeer is very much a folk tale, the sort of story that feels like it was told around a fire at night by Laplanders herding reindeer. A girl is born to a Finnish family. Her mother Maarita (Mirjami Kuosmanen) names her Pirita (also eventually played by Mirjami Kuosmanen). It is prophesied that Pirita will become the subject of a great song of the people. Of course, all great tales need a hero, but they also need a villain.
When Pirita is older, she participates in local games at annual reindeer herding competitions. One of her competitors is Aslak (Kalervo Nissilä), and the two soon fall in love and marry. The problem is that reindeer herding means Aslak is frequently away and Pirita is just as frequently bored and lonely.
So what’s a girl to do? Pirita goes to visit Tsalkku-Nilla (Arvo Lehesmaa), a shaman, with the hopes of getting more attention—both from Aslak and in general. The shaman incants a spell and prepares a potion, telling Pirita to sacrifice the first creature she sees to the Great Seita, a sacred reindeer graveyard. This is, of course, where this kind of story always goes wrong. The first creature Pirita sees is a white reindeer that Aslak had set free. She makes the sacrifice, but the ritual goes badly. So, now Pirita can attract any man and during the full moon can shapeshift into a white reindeer, which naturally has murderous intent.
Where the rest of this goes is, while not perfectly predictable, is pretty clear. Pirita is going to explore this new ability both for her own personal gratification and for her now cursed bloodlust. And this is really where the film shows its genius. On the surface, the idea of a murderous albino reindeer seems sillier than normal. Lycanthropy is at least a touch silly going in (people turning into animals?) but being confronted with a ravenous man/wolf is pretty terrifying when played right in cinematic terms. But a reindeer? This sounds like a precursor to Night of the Lepus or the source of Black Sheep, the first a ridiculous creature feature and the second an obvious horror parody.
Because this was filmed in 1952, we’re going to be limited in what we see, and Erik Blomberg uses this to great effect. We’re going to see Pirita pursued by men and jump cuts will give us the change into a reindeer (no extended transformation sequence, no splitting open of body parts or gore). In fact, it’s implied that most of her murders of the local herders happen after she has transformed back into herself. All of the deaths are implied and never shown, and because of this, the whole thing works surprisingly well.
This can only go on for so long, and eventually Pirita is found out and pursued by men carrying weapons made of cold iron, the only substance that can kill a witch. Again, we know where this is going. It’s the journey that matters here, not the clear destination.
I’d love for this to be longer. It creeps in at just over an hour long, and there’s a lot here that really works well. Mirjami Kuosmanen is really engaging as Pirita initially, and when she is affected by this curse, it becomes evident. We get some very good Kubrick stares when she is preparing to murder someone, and since all of this happens off-camera, it is genuinely disturbing. I could stand a little more of her experiencing the reindeer form—I don’t need more kills or more victims. The transition from Piritia to Pirita the murderous lycanthrope is too quick, and it would be worth seeing that transition with more detail and more slow menace.
I enjoyed this a great deal. I didn’t have any real expectations going in and maybe I should have, because this is a lot better than the perceived premise.
Why to watch The White Reindeer: Lycanthropy tales are always underrated.
Why not to watch: It’s too short.
No comments:
Post a Comment