Curiosity has been a driving force in my life, ever since childhood. I was born in a small fishing village in the north of Iceland, far away from the skyscraper world on television. I remember looking at the midnight sunset next to my grandparents lighthouse in northern Iceland and dreaming of exploring distant lands and otherworldly cultures.
Years passed and I travelled the world only to realize how similar we all are at the crux; Russian sailors, Mongolian nomads or Pakistani farmers were constant reminders of my people back home. A deep fiery feeling was born; a way of seeing the world.
I have spent much of a decade long career in journalism depicting the marginalized and voiceless in society; the alien, the outcast, the asylum-seeker and refugee. When pursuing an MA degree in Visual Anthropology, I decided to turn the lens towards my own tribe. My first feature film would be about my grandfathers preparations for death.
The making of Half Elf represents a sea change in my career in many respects. It is by far the most personal work I have ever done. One which sprung from urgency. My grandparents were 99 and 96 years old at the time and I knew that if I would not follow up on this idea right away, it would probably never be done.
By exploring aging and death through the fragile lens of a grandchild that is learning how to use the camera, I wanted to portray common human notions and shed light on the last stages of life, something I feel is very underrepresented in our culture.
But who was I to do just that? How could someone with minor experience in filmmaking hope to portray such a profound subject matter in a meaningful way? The answer to that question came from my grandparents themselves. It was with their love, humor and endless patience that this film came to fruition. They performed their own life in such an extraordinary way that the only thing I had to do was to turn the lens in the right direction.
The result is an observational account on an elderly couple going through the last stages of life, a modern day fairy-tale where elves and hidden people make their presence known, a film where life is celebrated in spite of the reality that awaits us all, death itself.
This has been an extraordinary journey, one which I am deeply grateful to have ventured upon. My grandfather was so stoked about this decision of mine that he put on the performance of his life. My grandmother had a harder time understanding what I was actually doing. Why us? What is it about us that is so special? I hope the film itself will be enough to answer her question.
Jón Bjarki Magnússon.
