Space: Three Films’ Finest Frontier

Though physical space and landscape play into many movies, the Edinburgh International Film Festival selections Mother (2016), Sparrows (2015), and Suntan (2016), make particularly effective use of these factors, bringing their comparatively limited settings to life along with their characters. “…landscape can be leveraged by screenwriters to add additional depth to a story or the situation that characters find themselves in,” writes Stewart Mckie in his article The Role of Landscape in Film. Humans are bound by the spaces we inhabit, allowing those places to become ideal candidates for exploration and exploitation in films.

Though all three films feature fairly cut off surroundings, the least expansive by far is Mother – an Estonian whodunit of sorts that revolves around the mysterious shooting of a small town schoolteacher and the matriarch relegated to care for him in his coma. Mostly set within the confines of a single house, Mother uses this confined space to create an increased sense of drama as scenes of intrigue unfold within the family’s home. The repetitive, enclosed, spaces magnify the tension and further the feelings of desperation and immobility that permeate the film. This makes the minimal trips away from or outside of the dwelling all the more significant and revealing. The film’s final reveal features the titular mother (Tiina Malberg) finally sprinting away from the stifling atmosphere of the house turned prison, attempting to gain her freedom, but finding that her plans of escape are no more.

The coming of age tale Sparrows, on the other hand, prominently features Iceland’s vast emptiness. Though, unlike in Mother, the main characters are free to roam, they ironically really have nowhere to go. The physical space echoes the isolation of protagonist Ari (Atli Óskar Fjalarsson) and the other characters, while also presenting them with its own unique challenges. Here, expansive shots of the landscape dwarf the people, appearing to minimize their importance in the face of their vast looming solitude – the shots’ wide openness contradictory to the knowledge of confinement. The land looms large around its inhabitants, both it and the shots remaining fixed while it is the people who pass through them.

Another film set away from the mainland, Suntan opens with doctor Kostis (Makis Papadimitriou) disembarking a ferry on the Greek island of Antiparos to become its new physician. Sparsely populated, the island’s finite residents and scenery provide a consistent backdrop for Kostis’ downward spiral. Described by director Argyris Papadimitropoulos as a “coming of middle age film,” it makes the tension between youth and age apparent as Antiparos transitions from wintry isolation to a thriving summer holiday destination. Inspired by the island, Papadimitropoulos sought to elevate its summertime vibrancy to a character status of its own. As in Mother, the limited locations pictured work to enhance the feeling of being stuck and struggle against isolation, despite the sunshine, turquoise waters, and partying crowds. As everyone around him embraces the unity and hedonism of youth in the islands clubs or at the shore, Kostis finds himself more and more driven apart from humanity and this place he should call home.

Whether a place we have experienced or not, physical space can often be used to create emotional space. “…landscape often acts in an archetypal way that a screenwriter can expect to elicit a specific and shared response from an audience,” Mckie states. Through their mechanisms of setting and space, Mother, Sparrows, and Suntan, certainly succeed in drawing their viewers into their worlds and eliciting a core response from audiences.  Ultimately, all three films use their distinct settings to their advantage, enhancing the various senses of isolation, futility, and tragedy played out in all the locales.