It has become a semi-common practice for teenagers to take a gap year after graduating high school. Many take to traveling the world to gain insight, while others get a job right out of school to make money and save up for their future. The intent of a gap year is to delay adulthood a bit while feeling stuck between childhood and owning one’s responsibilities as a grown-up.
Academy Award-nominated directors Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady (“Jesus Camp”) give a new perspective on the gap year with the documentary “Folktales,” which premiered on Saturday at the Sundance Film Festival. Set in Pasvik, Norway, roughly 200 miles north of the Arctic Circle, the film follows 19-year-olds attending a Folk High School, where they are put to the test as they brave the harsh elements while learning the art of dog sledding. A far-fetched real-life premise is a strange focal point for anxious teens looking to delay adulthood while gaining new skills in the wilderness.
Ewing and Grady use their distinctive directing style in humorous and gorgeous manners, often capturing the beautiful northern lights and grating snowy conditions that take over the students’ lives for much of their year-round studies. It’s admirable to witness self-described loners and apprehensive young men and women try their hand at something as challenging as dog sledding and making fire with little to no tools at their disposal, but it’s also not something that resonates with its audience. There’s a bit of background on many of these teens to provide a sense of how they arrived at this place in their lives, but much is left to be desired.
“Folktales” attempts to create an emotional gut punch by examining a small community that’s designed to trauma-bond without much of the trauma to accompany it. It’s a commendable story to tell, with skills that everyday adults watching the film could admit they have no clue as to what to do in these situations. But regardless of the new attributes these teenagers acquire during their 9-month adventures at Folk, including the harsh lesson of literally falling and needing to get right back up again, the story doesn’t reach compelling heights to which it aspires.
The film primarily focuses on three teenagers who have voluntarily chosen to join the program: socially awkward and self-described nerd Bjørn Tore, anxious Netherlands native Romain, and Hege, whose father was murdered, leaving her to fend for herself. They learn survival skills and form a partnership with the Siberian Huskies that practically become family.
Unlike the enthralling “Jesus Camp,” where Ewing and Grady’s camera gave context to the way religious upbringing could influence American politics, “Folktales” seems like a foreign concept for both its filmmakers and their audience. The documentary subjects exhibit typical Gen Z attributes, most notably during a scene when Romain is left to fend for himself in the dark, frigid wilderness to make fire and keep his dog alive…all while he complains and asks questions of his adult “teachers” who provide absolutely no lifelines. Romain is resistant to change and wants everything done for him, but he must face the circumstances of adulthood head-on.
The reality is that when these teenagers eventually end their gap year, they won’t ever need to make a fire, nor will they need to dog sled another day of their life. They aren’t would-be farmers, and many of them come from suburban households where crippling anxiety has become an acceptable norm. Yes, their experiences in Pasvik are notable and provide space for them to grow up in significant ways while finding others that share similar personality types, but it isn’t enough to convey a positive future for its participants.
The ending of “Folktales” is meant to be poignant, but it never satisfies in the manner the filmmakers intend. Even when we witness the after-effects of the dog sledding program and where these teenagers end up after graduation, the result isn’t satisfying.
The film is an enjoyable watch that allows viewers to experience a reality unseen by most Americans, many of whom sit comfortably in a climate-controlled theater while watching. But even the wind, snow, and deep blue eyes of the dogs in the foreground aren’t enough to make for a captivating documentary.
