I'm standing on a mountain pass, looking out over a glacial river delta on Iceland's south coast. Looming behind me is the Myrdalsjokull, an immense glacier shrouding an active volcano. It is the most beautiful, primordial landscape I've ever seen — which is why I picked it as the main shooting location for Beowulf & Grendel.
I want the landscape to take a lead role in my new film, but I didn't bank on a delayed start date. The shoot is taking place during the stormiest autumn in 60 years. And with wind gusting at 160 kilometres an hour, the line in the script “Odin gets drunk, wrecks the house,” nearly comes true.
I watch as a black volcanic sandstorm approaches, threatening to obliterate the set — a sixth-century mead hall — behind me.
“It's getting a little breezy,” first assistant director Wendy Ord shouts. “We've lost eight vehicles to flying debris, the roads to the east and west have been closed, and the roof just blew off the hotel next to ours at the base of the mountain. If we lose the mead hall, we're done.”
If you attended a premiere screening of Beowulf & Grendel last night, you know the mead hall survives, and that the film transports viewers to a fantastic realm of glacial deserts, haunted valleys and icy lagoons. What you might not know is that none of the scenery is computer-generated — they're all real locations in my native land.
Despite their rugged appearances, all these locations can be toured comfortably via the paved highway that circles Iceland. But you'll need a four-wheel-drive vehicle to take it all in, as the real magic lies off the highway, not just in the scenery, but also in the welcoming villages and farmsteads along the way.
You'll arrive by air in Keflavik, 50 kilometres north of Reykjavik. Once you've had your fill of the capital city's indie music clubs, museums and art galleries, kick off your Beowulf & Grendel tour by heading east on Highway 1. (There's only one highway in Iceland, so you won't have trouble finding it.)
At first, you'll drive through miles of eerie petrified lava fields, and you'll begin to understand why Icelanders believe the landscape is alive with trolls and huldufolk (invisible people). About an hour past the city, you'll reach the sea, and begin your journey through Suderlandid (the Southlands). This region is the home of the epic Icelandic sagas, and there is not a rock, knoll or crag that doesn't have a story (with the exception of a boulder near the village of Vik, which is known as “the rock without a story”).
After another half-hour, you'll see a road leading to Skogafoss (the Forest Waterfall, though there is no forest). This is where the Celtic priest, Brendan, baptizes the pagan converts in the film. It is a magnificent, mist-drenched cascade, with a set of stairs off to the side where you can climb to the top.
Before you reach Vik, you'll find the turnoff to Eyjafjallajokull (the Island Mountain Glacier). A half-hour drive through moraines takes you to a lodge where you can arrange a glacier tour via ATV and Ski-Doo on the same slab of ice where Beowulf and his men track Grendel on-screen. All this, as Beowulf says, is “out of our world.”As you approach Vik on the main road, you'll see the towering cliffs of Dyrholaey (Dune Door Island), where Beowulf and his men land at the start of their quest, and where Grendel cuts off his father's head. Between the main road and the coast is the area we called Selmaland, where the witch played by Sarah Polley lives. It's an enchanting little ecosystem — black sand dunes are dotted with wildflowers, and sedimentary rocks form miniature wind-sculpted badlands.
