The previous clip and the following entry contain SPOILERS for the movie “Eurovision”.
“The elves went too far.”
When Will Farrell was on SNL, I didn’t like him. I found him extraordinarily annoying. That feeling changed after he left the show and started making quirky movies. My opinion was materially altered after I watched “Stranger Than Fiction”. He did a great job in it. He soon returned to goofy character roles and whatnot. The rest of my opinion about his successes and failures doesn’t matter, because the only thing that matters is that there are tiny people in “Eurovision”.
I caught the movie ad on Twitter, and I added it to my Netflix watchlist right away. I only knew it’s a parody about Eurovision, of which I’ve known for many years, not only because some of you have sent me links to winning songs in the past, songs that could be interpreted as sizey. I always appreciate your sharing such things, even when I don’t agree with your reasoning. Anyway, I decided to play the movie as white noise a few nights ago when I had some things to do, but enough of my attention could be diverted to the TV screen every now and then.
“You’re small, Lars Erickssong. So small.”
My attention was entirely overtaken when I overheard the word “elves”. I dropped what I was doing, and from that moment, I’ve spent some time reading about the Icelandic people’s belief in Huldufólk, hidden people that may or may not be thought of as elves. These beings that can be as small as a few inches in height. As you can imagine, that’s the part that interests me. What I also found fascinating is that these tiny people, both in the movie and in reality (boy, do I love typing that), are a force to be reckoned with.
Anyone that knows me well is aware that while I enjoy fearplay and my blog is a minefield of domination and ownership displays concerning tiny possessions, I also like the idea of small people who are strong, smart, and able to defend themselves against the advances of giant abusers, either physically or intellectually. Twitter is populated by the former, and I begin to suspect that the latter have all moved to Iceland.
“They tell of mechanical breakdowns with no apparent cause, freak accidents, and dream warnings, or a series of these, interpreted as the work of elves,” Hafstein writes. “The invisible inhabitants of the construction site are supposed to want to deter from, delay or retaliate for the ongoing construction on their property.”Jacobs, Ryan. Why So Many Icelanders Still Believe in Invisible Elves. The Atlantic, 2013
I giggled twice during the movie, but the way I feel about the lines I love is only possible because of my giant brain, and nothing more. I now plan to include tiny homes for elves in my garden decorations. Do I plan to leave offerings at each front door such as cookies and small bottles of liquor just for fun? Maybe. Do I plan to do it in all seriousness? I’d rather not say. What I can say is that I love the idea of placing a row of homefronts in full display in my front yard, and no one will suspect a thing.
I also refuse to admit that I love the idea of a lovely band of 2-inch tall elves that protect my home with their infinitesimal weapons in exchange for foodstuffs, scrap metal, bitty clothes lovingly stitched together, and maybe a story whispered out loud when the neighbors are asleep, and only their pets can hear me amuse those little people with ribald size tales and a lewd drawing or two.
Conversely, if you hear news of giantess sightings in Iceland that start… whenever we’re allowed back in Europe, tell no one it’s me. I’ve added that beautiful country to the list of places I want to visit soon. While it’s third or fourth on my list, it’s first in my heart as far as size matters are concerned. Unless Italy or England or Canada happen to develop an uncommon citizenry of tiny people, that’s not likely to change.