Can stranded Mads Mikkelsen outsmart the elements in 'Arctic'?

Now from the You Think You’ve Got Problems Dept. — as if special-ordered for our current meteorological deep freeze — comes an epic “Arctic” adventure.

It’s unclear, at the outset, what a grizzled, 50-something man is doing in a snowy landscape. He seems to be scraping dark rocks into a pattern of some sort. It turns out to be an S.O.S. sign. But why? The camera, attuned to its own measured pace rather than our impatient curiosity, gradually pulls back to reveal a wrecked aircraft nearby.

The actor’s name is Mads Mikkelsen. The character’s name is never spoken, but a patch on his jacket says “Overgard”: He’s an unspecified researcher-explorer as well as pilot — a pro, who knows how to survive a plane crash in the Arctic wastes.

He has rigged a set of ingenious ice-fishing lines, carefully storing and preserving his catch in a cooler. He eats, sleeps and keeps fairly warm, with a small supply of butane, inside the plane wreckage. Most important, he is — or certainly seems — incapable of panic. How long has he been here? Weeks, at least — maybe a month or two — calmly and resourcefully waiting for rescue.

'Arctic'

 

 
Ratings explained

 

• Starring: Mads Mikkelsen, Maria Thelma Smaradottir.
• Rating: PG for language and some bloody images.

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It seems as hopeless as waiting for Godot until, finally, a heaven-sent helicopter spots him. He watches with joy, then horror, as the fierce Arctic winds cause it to plunge and break up, killing the pilot and severely injuring his young passenger (Maria Thelma Smaradottir).

He scavenges a few salvageable items from the copter and dutifully tends to the unconscious survivor. But it’s out of the frozen frying pan, into the freezer: The first disastrous rescue operation now awaits an even less likely second one.

“They’re looking for you, don’t worry, they’ll be here tomorrow,” he assures the unresponsive girl, then quietly adds, “…or the day after tomorrow or …”

As the snow gets deeper and the supplies run out, he’s faced with a terrible decision: to stay there in the relative safety of their wreckage encampment or risk a long trek through unknown terrain with no guarantee of human civilization at its end. That would involve putting her on a makeshift dog sled — with himself as the dog. It would also involve fashioning igloos in blinding blizzards, fending off frostbite and hungry polar bears, and surmounting other obstacles akin to the myth of Sisyphus.

The struggle is against despair as much as the elements.

Mr. Mikkelsen — Denmark’s foremost actor and, now, one of our own — delivers a performance of intense commitment and agonizing authenticity, never histrionic. If you enjoyed him as Van Gogh’s priest in “At Eternity's Gate” or “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story” or the 2013-15 “Hannibal” TV series, you’ll want to catch his (downbeat) act here. You may also want to know that “Mads” is a Danish diminutive nickname for Matthew and that it’s pronounced like “Moss.”

There’s no end to the things you can learn here at the Post-Gazette film desk.

“Arctic” is Brazilian auteur video director Joe Penna’s feature film debut, and it could be described in musical terms as “adagio ma non troppo” — slow-building, intending to enthrall rather than dazzle you with simple, straightforward storytelling. At this it succeeds for the bulk of its 97 virtually dialogue-free minutes, thanks largely to the majestic Icelandic tundra that stands in for the Arctic — with basic black-and-white geometric cinematography to match the monochromatic landscapes.

Joseph Trapanese’s subtle, minimal score is a perfect complement.

It doesn’t break much new ground from similar survival tales of the past (Tom Hanks’ “Cast Away,” James Franco’s “127 Hours,” Robert Redford’s “All Is Lost” come to mind), but it’s a fascinating two-character drama in which one character says next to nothing and the other says nothing at all. Mr. Mikkelsen’s ordeal makes Mr. Redford’s look like a game of miniature golf.

No frills, moderate thrills. Nordic stoicism on display. Much agony, little ecstasy. But all in all, a worthy endurance test for Mads Mikkelsen and ourselves: survival of the fittest filmgoer.

Post-Gazette film critic emeritus Barry Paris can be reached at parispg48@aol.com.