‘The Raven’s Dance’

The black and screeching crow that brings bad news has always been a symbol of evil, especially in Scandinavian mythology. See Eddas. See Wagner’s ‘’Ring’’. It is this bird that has a symbolic place in Markku Ilmari Lehmuskalio’s beautiful film ‘’Korpinpolska’’, which is released today at 2.30 pm. It is part of the Museum of Modern Art’s “Scandinavia: New Films” series. There will be another demonstration on Saturday at 2:30 p.m.

RAVEN’S DANCE

You don’t have to be Finnish to know the etymology of “Korpinpolska”. ‘’Polska’’ should be derived from ‘’polka’’, a dance; And “corbin,” corresponding to “corwin,” should be crow or raven. Hence “The Raven’s Dance.”

Mr Lehmuskallio, who trained as a forester, spent four years making the film, which was first shown at this year’s Berlin Film Festival. He has followed some traditions. There is a half-hour prologue — almost a third of the film — that is nothing less than a cinematic symphonic ode to the jungle. The camera takes us all the way to the north, zooming in on Finnish flora and fauna: reindeer and moose, birds in mating dance, birch and pine, lake and river, eagle and raven.No dialogue, no background music. But there is a kind of background rhythm (nature’s rhythms?). The filming is direct and natural, there is nothing artificial about it. The viewer gets lost in the vastness and peace of the forest, and when the man finally appears it is a real shock.

Then goes down to the film industry. Nature versus civilization is on the director’s mind. Yet he does not preach. The action is minimal, and points are awarded instead of points. We see a family of three in the forest. Father (grandfather?) helps with housework. The husband traps, shoots, catches fish. The wife cooks and takes care of the livestock. This is a small monk of life. This little device can withstand the elements. But it cannot stand civilization. There is a road in the forest. A game warden appears, seizes the hunter’s gun and brings him to court. There is a hint of extremely obvious symbolism at the end. A broken egg represents the broken life of the little family.

It is all quiet, restrained, simple and very sad. Nothing special happens, but everything happens. We become desperately involved in the young couple trying to live like their ancestors. The old man (he dies midway through the film) sings songs about the old days, plays the violin himself (and, like authentic folk singers, never moves out of first place on the instrument). It is a difficult but satisfying life, where man is at one with nature. But, as the film makes clear, there is a dying life even in remote areas of Finland. Civilization will eventually put its smoky thumb on the last search. the machine will ultimately triumph.

There is not much information available about the actors. Are they professional or exactly as they are represented? In any case, they are completely self-confident. The dialogue may be minimal at best, but the direction ensures that every movement, every gesture is meaningful. In a way, the central characters are as patient, as natural, as inevitable victims of fate as the animals in the film are. Perti Kallinainen is the husband, Hilka Matikainen the wife, Paavo Katjasaari the old man and Eero Camilla the gamekeeper. And above all, the forest, which Mr. Lehmusklio has described very poetically.

Poetic Forest

Raven’s Dance, written, produced and directed by Markku Ilmari Lehmuskallio; (Finnish with English subtitles); Camera, Markku Ilmari Lehmskalio and Becca Martevo; Edited by Juho Gartz; A production of Suomi Filmi Oy, Finland and Sveriges Television Luleå, Sweden. At the Museum of Modern Art, 11 West 53d Street, part of “Scandinavia: New Films.” Playing time: 80 minutes. Weather temperature in April. With: Perti Kallinainen, Paavo Katajasaari, Hilka Matikainen and Eero Camill