Adam Matthews dives into icy depths of The Damned.
“We should not be here.” With this ominous declaration, The Damned plunges viewers into a world of bone-chilling isolation and supernatural unease. Directed by Thordur Palsson, and written by Irish scribe Jamie Hannigan, this atmospheric horror tale is set amidst the harsh, icy landscapes of 19th-century Iceland. There existence is as much a battle against the elements as it is against one’s inner demons.
At its core, The Damned is a story about survival—physical, emotional, and spiritual. The protagonist, Eva, portrayed with steely resolve and vulnerability by Odessa Young, clings to a remote fishing station that represents her last shred of stability. “This fishing station is all I have left,” she declares, a line that encapsulates the film’s emotional core. Her determination is set against a backdrop of a cold, indifferent world that is as unyielding as the characters’ struggles within it.
Palsson masterfully contrasts the warmth of human connection inside the station with the stark bleakness outside. Inside, firelight flickers, offering fleeting comfort. Outside, the landscape is a gelid wasteland of snow and ice, where every gust of wind feels sharp enough to pierce skin. The cinematography captures this juxtaposition beautifully, transforming the Icelandic terrain into an ever-present, silent threat that shapes the characters’ fates.
The supernatural elements of The Damned draw heavily from Norse folklore, grounding the horror in the cultural context of the setting. The sea draugr, a haunting figure from legend, casts a long shadow over the film without being over-explained or overly visible. These spectral beings, said to be the restless spirits of shipwrecked men, embody both the physical and psychological terror of the sea. As one character grimly observes, “They will not stop, just like the relentless cold.” This sense of inevitability underpins much of the film’s tension, making the threat feel omnipresent.
The sound design is a key element in creating the film’s oppressive atmosphere. Stephen McKeon’s score combines hollow, foreboding baritone notes with ethereal vocals and the eerie screech of strings. The gurgling sounds of unseen depths, punctuated by explosive percussion, evoke a sense of something vast and malevolent lurking just beyond the veil. While the score is undoubtedly effective, it occasionally verges on being overwhelming, with some critics noting that quieter moments – allowing the icy landscape to “speak” – might have heightened the tension even further.
Unease permeates every frame. Palsson plays with the contrast between the relative safety of daylight and the creeping menace of night, where “the dark plays tricks on you.” Shadows and silhouettes, such as one “standing upright, as tall as a man,” blur the lines between reality and imagination, forcing the audience to question what is real and what might be the characters’ minds unravelling under the weight of desolation and guilt.
Young anchors the film with a deeply affecting performance. Eva is a woman weathered by grief and loss, her resilience constantly tested by her environment and her inner turmoil. The world-weariness she exudes is mirrored by the harsh, unyielding world around her. The supporting cast, including Joe Cole and Siobhan Finneran, contribute to the film’s atmosphere with layered performances that add depth to the story’s themes of survival and human frailty.
Visually, the film is a superb display of contrasts and symbols. The barren, frost-covered landscape is punctuated by tiny flames, symbolic of fragile human resistance against an uncaring world. A solitary cross facing out to sea speaks of hopeless faith, while the visual interplay of light and shadow reflects the dualities of safety and danger, warmth and cold, life and death.
In its final moments, the film leans into its folkloric and psychological roots, delivering an ambiguous conclusion. While it leaves many questions unanswered, this approach reinforces the themes of uncertainty and human fragility that permeate the narrative. Rather than tying its story into a neat bow, The Damned invites audiences to sit with their discomfort, much like its characters must confront their own fears and regrets.
The Damned is a triumph of mood and atmosphere, immersing viewers in a world where every breath feels cold, every shadow harbours secrets, and every decision is weighted with endurance. Though the ending may divide opinion, the film’s ability to evoke fear and awe through its rich visuals, folkloric horror, and emotional depth cements it as a standout entry in the folk horror genre. It is a haunting reminder of how isolation —whether physical or psychological—can transform both the world around us and the truths we hold dear.
In cinemas 10th January 2024.
‘Pilgrimage’ Writer Jamie Hannigan & Director Brendan Muldowney
