Frozen river and other stories
The other evening I watched a film called 'Frozen River'. It had been another random choice from Sandvika Library; for some reason the title resonated with me.
I had put off watching it, sensing a bleak story. And indeed, I wasn't mistaken, but bleak can be potent and this was. A mother of two boys is abandoned by her husband who absconds with the money she had saved for the delivery of a new mobile home. Set in Canada, this is real winter and the new house offers warmth and insulation. Poverty is real and survival a question of ingenuity and courage. Necessity forces her to begin assisting a mohawk girl smuggling illegal immigrants across the border. They drive across the frozen river.
The movie is taught with held breath, suspended judgement and memories of trying to sleep comfortless and cold. A remarkable narrative. And so little conversation. The silence of what is trapped, held, under those brittle layers of solidified wateryness.
(image courtesy of www.randalitt.wordpress.com )
