The first-ever Icelandic horror “feature” (a TV movie actually, and, at 65 minutes, not quite feature length). Dealing equally potently with Icelandic folklore and old fashioned madness and murder, it was an early effort by director Hrafn Gunnlaugsson, who went on to become one of Iceland’s top filmmakers with the twice sequalized Viking saga WHEN THE RAVEN FLIES (1984).
Reaction to THE CRIMSON SUNSET (BLÓðRAUTT SÓLARLAG) upon its initial 1977 airing was mixed, with one viewer proclaiming it “the most disgusting piece of trash I have ever seen.” Such a reception is a primary reason, it’s been opined, that Iceland turned out so few horror films—and among those few films almost none of any real worth—in the years since.
The film opens with two city-bred men on a drive through the more rural regions of Iceland in search of peace and quiet. Well stocked with guns and alcohol, they decide to settle in Djúpavík, a deserted fishing village. Following an excess of drunken banter (a bit too much if you ask me) and aimless goofing around the guys settle into a bar where one of them, the chunky Dóri, relates how years earlier he witnessed a halfwit being bound and abused (apparently a cultural motif that hails from Iceland’s early years), a sight that has haunted him ever since.
From there paranoia overtakes the men, and perhaps with good reason, as it seems someone (or something) is afoot in the village, and looking to do them in.
Lensed in black and white, THE CRIMSON SUNSET is marked by painterly visual compositions that set it apart from most eighties horror films (even the European ones). A potent atmosphere of apprehension and unease is established in the opening scenes, and steadily heightened as the proceedings advance.
Gunnlaugsson, however, vastly over-relies on that atmosphere to move the film along, as it’s often punishingly uneventful. The use of a lengthy bar-set conversational monologue to fill in an important plot point was another mistake, as it severely lessens the suspense. Another problem is with the imitation new wave rock score that lessens, and severely dates, the proceedings.
But the film is quite unique, with a STALKER–worthy setting of near-otherworldly desolation. Crumbling buildings and garbage-strewn exteriors mark the film’s landscapes, which seem all the more striking given that Djúpavík village is a real location, and apparently required very little in the way of set dressing.
Vital Statistics
THE CRIMSON SUNSET (BLÓðRAUTT SÓLARLAG)
Ríkisútvarpið-Sjónvarp
Director: Hrafn Gunnlaugsson
Producer: Egill Eðvarðsson
Screenplay: Hrafn Gunnlaugsson
Cinematography: Sigurliði Guðmundsson, Baldur Hrafnkell Jónsson
Editing: Ragnheiður Valdimarsdóttir
Cast: Róbert Arnfinnsson, Rúrik Haraldsson, Helgi Skúlason