THE COUNTY: A Fight By The Farmers, For The Farmers

In the time Academy Award for Best Director-winner Chloé Zhao was establishing herself as a significant voice exploring the rural and isolated existences in America, which eventually culminated in an Oscar victory this year for Nomadland, Grímur Hákonarson has also been creating similarly sparse parables of rural existence in Iceland, most notably Rams and The County. The commonalities between these two filmmakers lie in their understanding that in a globally capitalist system, it’s impossible to escape the effects of economic anxiety and the specters of bureaucratic power that loom over the Earth. The differences in their approach to these topics manifest naturally from the differences in the topography and culture of America and Iceland respectively.

The Dark Shadow of Greed

I kept thinking a lot about Nomadland while I was watching Hákonarson’s The County because of how both rely on headstrong women working independently towards unplanned destinies. Inga’s (Arndís Hrönn Egílsdottir) husband dies under mysterious circumstances and she takes care of their farm lot in a very rural area of Iceland on her own. Iceland is a small island country but it still has plenty of empty space which the camera captures to serene and melancholy effect. Cinematographer Mart Taniel creates angled planes where the sky and land seem to coexist as tangential and shy objects, in contrast to Joshua James Richards who’s golden hour shots attempt to meld everything together in a yellow-orange haze. The former seems impenetrable while the latter beckons its central figure, like a north star.

There isn’t a sense of displacement or longing for escape in The County so much as there is a sense of crushing pressure from above. Inga and her fellow community members have dug their roots deep and are steadfast in their existences, but it’s becoming increasingly loomed over by a nefarious world of capital profit with a dark shadow of greed. The “Co-op”, which operates as a collective unit for farmers in the film, has through the years slowly transitioned from its original intention of a collectively owned and operated economy for and by the farmers into a more bureaucratic system of a few board members controlling the pie while doling out stricter and stricter regulations.

A Fight of Courage and Uncertainty

Hákonarson’s approach to politics is that of creeping silhouettes invading an isolated area. Establishing shots of a farm community in this film and Hákonarson’s breakthrough feature Rams illustrates a slice of heaven in Iceland, even with an almost constant overcast of clouds, where farmers tend to their flock in peace. Like a noir, The County cuts its tranquil moments of Inga’s existence with dramatic remembrances of her husband’s disappearance, coupled with mysterious black vehicles pulling up and men in suits prowling around with intimidating shadows. Soon, the lines start to connect.

Arndís Hrönn Egílsdottir gives Inga a complex personality of a reluctant warrior. She is steadfast in her stance against the Co-op’s corruption, but she still looks unnerved in front of the camera when telling reporters of her distrust. She faces her antagonist horns-first, slinging literal cow dung onto a Co-op board member’s car, but still sits at the edge of her seat contemplating the possible escalation she has caused. Her character is a true manifestation of the uncertainty that comes along with courage. Hákonarson films her intimately but doesn’t make her into some sort of saint or martyr figure. She is a commoner, a working-class woman, and her existence is threatened. It’s natural for her to be both aggressive and unsure.

Conclusion

Frances McDormand’s Fern looks out into the distant horizon and sees new frontiers. She goes anywhere and everywhere. Conversely, Inga has her roots planted and while she inhabits and communicates with a land as visually vast as Fern does, at least in their respective films’ canvasses, her fight for independence is one of defense and protection. Like Nomadland, The County has its tragedies rooted in the rot of capitalism and the external forces of power that change rules and crush lives faster than people can adjust, rebuild pieces, or in Inga’s case, fight back.

Do you agree with the comparison between The County and Nomadland? Let us know in the comments below!

The County is currently streaming in Virtual Cinema across the U.S.

Watch The County