Following on from the success of her debut feature Brick Lane in 2007, director Sarah Gavron, along with co-director David Katznelson, journey to the remote plains of North-Western Greenland for a transition into documentary feature. The focus in Village At The End Of The World is the small and isolated community of Niaqornat, a coastal village that has seen the fishing and hunting trade decline steadily over recent years and the population whittled down to a scant 59. Gavron turns her camera to focus on four specific individuals in the community; the mayor and chief hunter Karl, isolated teenager Lars, outsider and sewage worker Ilannguaq and Annie, the oldest member of the village. We follow them as they recall their experiences in living in Niaqornat, how they cope with the vast isolation around them and what they plan for the future of themselves and the village.

From its opening breathtaking aerial shots of the sparse and beautiful landscape of Greenland Gavron’s film is clearly concerned with the division, both geographical and spiritual, of nature and man. Early sequences like this reminded me of the incredible documentaries of Werner Herzog. Niaqornat is merely a dot against a large backdrop and much of the drama of the narrative follows the efforts of the villagers attempts to make sense of their lives against such a seemingly unforgivable void. Its thankfully told without much gloom and doom hanging over the proceedings as the villagers at the heart of the story are mostly upbeat about their situation and surroundings. Ilannguaq cheerfully recounts moving to Niaqornat to marry the woman he loves whilst shovelling resident’s waste into a bin. Lars, the isolated teenager, enthusiastically gives us a tour of his ‘virtual life’; the vast array of contacts he has amassed on social networking sites and a tour of Google Earth detailing all of the places he wishes to visit beyond the tiny commune. This sharp contrast between the desolate landscape and digital world truly hammers home the concepts of isolation and longing without jumping off into maudlin territory. The village’s traditional roots and older generations are represented by the older Annie, who recalls frightening yet eerily beautiful memories of days with no electricity in the village and the sound of ice sheets breaking echoing across the plains like cannon fire. Gavron captures such a moment on camera along with other moments of genuine natural awe such as the 24 hour darkness that descends at winter. Moments like this provide a genuine cinematic spectacle that again recall the likes of Herzog or even Terrence Malick in its staggering sense of environment and justify its place on the big screen.

However it’s on the more intimate and personal details that the film stumbles somewhat. Whereas the more episodic and seemingly random recollections and observations are absorbing and even delightful, the central thread of the film revolves around the efforts of the community at large to save the fishing factory that could potentially provide their means of survival. As illuminating as these insights are into the importance of fishing and hunting to the community, the narrative backbone of the film seems terribly convenient and neat as though perhaps the filmmakers felt that that the natural flow of observations and interviews with the locals would not be enough to sustain the film despite their strength. There is also a lack of insight into the relationship between two of the key interviewees that is brought up but never truly discussed in major detail suggesting that perhaps the directors wanted to incorporate it into the story despite one or both of the subjects not being so willing to go into details. At a scant 76 minutes, Village At The End Of The World keeps it brisk and doesn’t outstay it’s welcome though (and I don’t normally find myself arguing this) I would have liked a slightly longer running time in order to delve deeper into the richness of the culture as well as their magnificent surroundings. Gavron certainly has a fine eye for detail and the moments of wonder and warmth she finds in the cold, inhospitable landscape are a joy. Hopefully in her next documentary she can flesh these ideas out to their fullest potential.