Something like a Map of Anastasia Lapsui and Markku Lehmuskallio’s Cinematic Universe

Lapsui and Lehmuskallio have extensively researched and documented the life of at least nine different indigenous peoples of the North in their films. The retrospective will take viewers on a journey with the filmmakers through Canada, Alaska, Finland, Norway, the former Soviet Union and present-day Russia, Greenland, Australia, and even Vietnam. In order to facilitate the navigation across their extensive filmography, which remains largely obscure in Portugal, it feels important to break it down into cycles and attempt to draw its tentative map that would become a reliable companion in this cinematic journey.

We know very well that almost all great filmmakers are consistent in their work. This is especially true of Lapsui and Lehmuskallio, whose fifty-year cinematic project is remarkably cohesive. Each new film follows up on the previous one, literally born from what has been made and discovered. Their cinema is a clear thought, a reflection whose development we have the pleasure of following. In the mid 1990s they discovered the fragmentary form, which turns every film into a mosaic, a patchwork of scenes, short films, songs and poems. One could say that the directorial duo’s whole oeuvre is one film divided into 29 fragments, where they keep looking closely into humanity and asking questions: what it means to live, to be human, what role art can play in our lives, how to find the humility to be equal to others—people, animals, nature. Is paradise indeed lost?

My way of classifying these works and dividing them into cycles is certainly tentative, since the films are interconnected and could easily move from one category to another. Lehmuskallio himself offers a very simple principle of division into just two periods: before meeting Anastasia (thus, four features and four shorts) and after (the rest of the films, even if they aren’t always both credited as co-directors). Nevertheless, I will take the liberty of suggesting this way of navigating their filmography:

  • a cycle of films about forests and wildlife, the relationship between humanity and nature: Pohjoisten metsien äänet (1973), Tapiola (1974), Mies jolla on kahdet kasvot (1974), Elämän tanssi (1975), Korpinpolska (1980) and Uhri – elokuva metsästä (1998);
  • films on the Sami, an indigenous people of Finland: Mies jolla on kahdet kasvot (1974), Skierri – vaivaiskoivujen maa (1982) and Saamelainen (2007);
  • the Nenets saga: a) the documentary trilogy comprising Poron hahmossa pitkin taivaankaarta… (1993), Kadotettu paratiisi (1994) and Jäähyväisten kronikka (1995); b) the independent sequel to Kadotettu paratiisi: Elämän äidit (2002); c) the trilogy of fiction films, made in the Nenets language for the first time ever, and based on Lapsui’s memories—Seitsemän laulua tundralta (2000), Jumalan morsian (2003) and Sukunsa viimeinen (2010); d) Nedarma matka (2007), a poetic summary of Nenets cosmology resulting from 18 years of work with this people;
  • a philosophical trilogy about humanity, its place on Earth and the role of art and the sacred in life: Maan muisti (2009), Yksitoista ihmisen kuvaa (2012) and Pyhä (2017);
  • films about other peoples of the North not directly dedicated to the Nenets and Sami: Inuksuk (1988), Anna (1997), Uhri – elokuva metsästä (1998), Fata Morgana (2004), Tsamo (2015) and Anerca, elämän hengitys (2020);
  • finally, their seminal films that set a direction for reflections on the nature of art and its significance in human life: Sininen imettäjä (1985) and the pair Minä olen – Elokuva tundralla asuvien ihmisten taiteesta: Esihistoria ja kohtaaminen (1992) and Minä olen – Elokuva tundralla asuvien ihmisten taiteesta: Nykytaide (1992).

Boris Nelepo