Heima

With a delicately droning sound and lyrics composed partly in Icelandic, partly in Hopelandic (a gibberish language invented by falsetto-voiced lead singer Jónsi Birgisson), Sigur Rós—along with compatriot Björk—is the aesthetic ambassador of its remote, ethereal country. Heima, which means “at home” in the band members’ native tongue, is their first concert film, documenting a summer 2006 tour to various (often sparsely populated) towns on the island, and revelling in topographical detail and local colour. Magisterial beauty, then, is to be expected. Heima couples performance footage with shots—frequently tricked out with time lapses and slow motion—of flowing streams, waterfalls, crystalline fjords, and sublime mountains and volcanoes. But Heima is also a travelogue, primarily due to the influence of its director, erstwhile Torontonian Dean DeBlois, an unlikely match for the band (he lives in Hollywood and co-directed Lilo & Stitch). DeBlois sits each member down for an interview, which might be seen as conventional, even self-aggrandizing, but becomes essential to Heima’s success. (Notably, Sigur Rós initially did not want DeBlois to do this.) We get background information on the smaller shows, such as one at Snæfellsskála for a dozen or so protesters of the Kárahnjúkar dam project, and another at Djúpavík, in an abandoned fish factory; both gigs are lessons on how Iceland is not an elfin fantasyland divorced from the grim realities of world commerce. Well, at least not entirely. Heima does indeed teem with preciousness, but for the most part comes by it honestly, pitting it as a kind of national vernacular. Sigur Rós certainly couldn’t have emerged from anywhere else. SEE IT NOW—David Balzer

Heima is playing now playing at the Royal (608 College St.).