10/02/2025 - Bergur Bernburg presents a collage-like Icelandic docufiction, a formally fascinating but occasionally overly free-flying examination of defying biomedical diagnoses

Kurt Ravn (left) and Kristján Ingimarsson in Storm Alerts

Described in a subtitle card as “a journey into the unknown territories of the human mind”, Bergur Bernburg's world-premiering IFFR Harbour title Storm Alerts takes a lightly avant-garde jab at a biomedically driven experience of the world through a docufictional lens. With a script by Jón Atli Jónasson and Bernburg, the film follows Marteinn Helgi Sigurðsson, whom we are introduced to as an “unmarried man in his forties, who holds a doctorate in Old Norse from Cambridge University”, as well as, at the time of filming, an assistant professor at the University of Copenhagen and a highly accomplished scholar of Viking and Medieval Norse studies.

As explored through the film, Sigurðsson’s plight is a prolonged case of depression and anxiety attacks related to “unfinished research projects” that are suggested to fit a conventional biomedical diagnosis of bipolar disorder. However, describing his patient’s case file as “their portrait of me” and “their take on reality”, he is sceptical at seeing the complexity distilled down to box-checking, with which he disagrees. Through talking-head interviews with his colleagues, archival footage from his past and encounters with the academic himself, we first learn about Sigurðsson more as the outside world sees him: dedicated, well organised and brilliant.

In conversation, the scholar actively condemns a shift in academic focus away from history and critical thinking, reflecting his internal discord and discontent with the world around him. He further recounts his experiences with his mental condition, describing it as “akin to magic”. Starting naturalistic, the film then takes a turn into the more surrealist closer to the halfway point, where Sigurðsson is fictionalised in unspeaking scenes by performer Kristján Ingimarsson, including his interactions with a snooty psychiatrist (Kurt Ravn). From his colleagues, we also hear how his mental state devolved, as if he were a man “possessed”, talking about different dimensions.

Stitched together by external clips – such as those of animals and nature – and footage from films, Storm Alerts’ second-half messiness takes us into what might be imagined as the inner mind of the academic. Intercut in between are colourful and sped-up euphoric/manic sequences, cheesy fake advertisements for luxury “hotels” (a nod to mental-health treatment centres) and brainrot-esque pieces that fight for attention with a set of calming moments with the professor himself. The movie’s choice of music during several frantic moments also takes a front seat, where several sequences are accompanied by Ravel’s famous orchestral piece “Bolero”. The song notably features a march-like percussion foundation and an enchanting woodwinds-heavy melodic line, which can be read as Sigurðsson’s coexisting but conflicting and intricate sides to his personality, behaviour and conscience.

Storm Alerts is a fascinating approach to questioning the strict biomedical frameworks to which we are subjected, although its late-film controlled chaos occasionally grows difficult to grasp onto as it intentionally defies description and order. Nonetheless, it’s still a bold move to try and give us an 80-minute look into Sigurðsson’s mental life, something that can’t be either logically or emotionally replicated in a precise way. Its form very easily follows its content, where the most important takeaways are the rollercoaster feelings of confusion, frustration and glee, given that Sigurðsson is experiencing the same.

Storm Alerts is an Icelandic-Danish production by Firnindi Films and ResearchGruppen Aps, in cooperation with Kristján Ingimarsson Company and Sagafilm. Its world sales are also managed by Firnindi Films.