Haukur Björgvinsson | Wilma / 2019

the incredible adventures of wilma, transgender daughter!

by Douglas Messerli

 

Haukur Björgvinsson (screenwriter and director) Wilma / 2019 [11 minutes]

 

In 2019 Icelandic screenwriter and director Haukur Björgvinsson introduced the world to a new tiny terror akin to Georges Perec’s Zazie, Wilma. The girl (Snævar Valdimarsson Steffensen), the recent transgender daughter of Jónas (Bragi Árnason), a father she has never even previously met, is dropped off at his trailer door by the mother Guðrún (María Birta) who for reasons unknown to us leaves the child in his care for a short period.

     Although, Jónas has been in communication with Guðrún about his temporary charge, he has told everyone that his son is coming to visit, and is angry and bitter that in the interim the son William has declared himself a girl named Wilma, and now appears in wild blonde hair, costumed in a dress that makes her look, as he describes her, as a “freak.” Overhearing his painful words of bigotry, Wilma is not at all pleased to be forced to stay with him in a small trailer and makes her distress apparent to her mother, who convinces her that the temporary stay is necessary.

      Almost the moment that she arrives, however, she is up to mischief, having uncovered a small packet with the remnants of a white powder, she checks it out by tasting a bit of what is clearly a crystal of cocaine. When she announces that she has consumed it, Jónas is terrified, immediately calling a doctor and checking on line for the reactions of children ingesting cocaine orally. Wilma even plays dead, giggling with glee over his shouts of terror.

      He plans to take her on a ride, presumably to get groceries, but she refuses to even get into the car until a child’s seat is produced and she is locked into place. As they begin the voyage, Jónas attempts to make conversation, asking her if she’s gay, while immediately retracing the questions and being a ridiculous father making absurd inquiries of of a ten-year old. But Wilma answers forthrightly, “Yes,” she is gay, and intends to soon plant a kiss on her new boyfriend’s lips.

      And hardly has the trip begun, when she demands he stop at a local restaurant since she declares “I’m starving.”

      As they prepare to order in this dive-like restaurant, a group of Icelandic red-necks in the corner begin berating a black woman and her young son nearby. Jónas is foiled in his attempts to please his new charge, as she orders only a glass of water, apologizing for having tricked him, but pointing out to him that she demanded he stop because the boy over there is the boyfriend she’s mentioned, “Alejandro…the love of my life.”

     Jónas turns back to observe the black child who the red-necks are mocking.

     “But you’re only ten,” protests the father. Wilma’s comeback: “And what’s the age limit of love?”

     Overhearing the continued taunts against Alejandro and his mother by the thugs, Wilma tells her father that he must help her to “take down these fuckheads.” He responds that the leader of that group is well-known for his violence, rumored to have even slugged a baby.

     Almost immediately, however, Wilma has a plan that also involves the waitress, who also hates the racist, rowdy beer-drinkers. In a manner of moments, the lights go out, the waitress claiming that it is a power outage. Suddenly the wild-haired girl appears in a flash before the drunks, and few seconds later appears outside looking in, with the same wild hair that can only remind one of horror films.

     The bigot, terrified, attempts to run off in fear as Jónas captures a picture of the bully and his group on the run, reciting the lines he’s been assigned: “Haha, we got you good, little pussy!” The father begins the sentence but cannot bring himself to finish it, so Wilma fills it the words he failed to recite, “little pussy,” Jónas being awarded a punch in the face by the villain as the screen goes dark.

      One feels like these few episodes are only the beginning of a much longer series starring Wilma the transgender daughter, which could surely be a TV series or even a feature film. This short, 11-minute film won the Special Jury Prize at the 2020 Flickerfest in Sydney, Australia, the Audience Award at the 2019 Luststeifen Film Festival, and the Best Original Screenplay Award at the 2019 Face á Face Festival in France. In fact, Björgvinsson has announced recently that is working on a feature-length adaptation.

 

Los Angeles, January 28, 2023

Reprinted from World Cinema Review (January 2023).