Berlinale hit and Nordic Festival opener Árru is a film that is weaving multiple threads together. The completely unique and incredible way of life of traditional Sámi reindeer herders in the Christmas-white landscapes of northern Norway, meets the universal themes of what family means, and in the face of dysfunction, whether the price of holding one together is worth it or not.
Árru holds close the tensions that indigenous communities the world over face, as they strive to protect not only their cultures but the very ground under all of our feet, while still needing to make a living, and wondering why they are left alone to take on the big corporations and industries that threaten us, when shouldn’t that be everyone’s job?
Maia (Sara Marielle Gaup Beaska) is keeping the show on the road in the film in her dual roles as a traditional reindeer herder, and hyper-capable single mum. Her daughter Ailin (Ayla Garen Nutti) and brother Danel (Simon Issát Marainen) are also in the family business, which isn’t going to do well if a local mining project gets the go-ahead. Enter Maia and Danel’s older brother, Lemme (Mikkel Gaup), who has been working overseas orchestrating just the kind of campaign they are looking for. What should be a great blessing is far from it, as the past comes crashing into the present.
Screening at Nordic Film Festival Australia 2026
Premiered in Berlinale Panorama 2026
Finalist First Nations Award Sydney Film Festival 2026
Director: Elle Sofe Sara
Screenplay: Johan Fasting, Elle Sofe Sara
Cinematographer: Cecilie Semec
Editor: Michał Leszczyłowski
Music: John Erik Kaada
Producer: Elisa Fernanda Pirir
Co-Producers: Mimmi Spång, Jani Pösö, Elle Sofe Sara, Cathrine Persson, Julia Andersen, Jim Stark, Jamal Zeinal-Zade, Dan Wechsler, Andreas Roald
Starring Sara Marielle Gaup Beaska, Simon Issát Marainen, Ayla Gáren Nutti, Mikkel Gaup, Ellen Anne Buljo Stabursvik, Anni-Kristiina Juuso
The dynamics between the characters echo the secrets and lies that are hidden in so many families, and which can eat them from the inside out. In Árru this is combined with the particularly nuanced and sensitive issue that is faced by indigenous peoples everywhere, when some member of communities position themselves as being the conduit with the rest of the world, the power struggles and corruption that comes from that, and the ultimate fracturing and fighting that happens back in families and friendship groups.
Árru is not called a yoik drama for nothing, as the other thing that pumps through the film is the music. The lead Gaup Beaska is a well-known yoiker in Norway, another link connecting the powerful traditions of the Sámi culture to the present day. This combined with inventive dance scenes and the expansive cinematography of Cecilie Semec, gives the film a real physical grounding, and a lingering memory of the Sápmi region, which in fact arcs across Norway, Sweden, Finland and Russia.
Cecilie Semec also lensed Dreams (Sex Love) / Drømmer last year, which was another big hit of Norwegian cinema that also premiered at Berlinale, and won the prestigious Golden Bear in 2025.
It makes sense to learn that director Elle Sofe Sara is a choreographer as well as a filmmaker. As an Indigenous artist, Sara is known for creating work that resonates as strongly for her community as it does for the rest of the world. Árru is her debut feature film, and previous film work includes the 2015 short Sámi Bojá (Sami boy). Her choroegraphic works have been critically acclaimed and toured extensively nationally and internationally, and she has co-founded Daíddadállu, a Sámi indigenous contemporary art collective.
It states in her biography that when she is not working with choreography or film, or traveling for work, Sara can be found marking reindeer calves with her children or reading animal tracks in the snow.
Árru asks us to question what is being handed down between the generations, what must we keep and what must we let go of, and it asks that universally, not just of one group or another, with a clear- eye on the future and making the world a better place. It’s a beautiful film that places activism at its centre, with the weight of knowledge and wisdom colliding with fresh and youthful rage.
Society has always relied on its young to stoke the fires of protest, and Árru places enough of the responsibility for change back on the adults, asking them not only what they’re going to tell the next generation, but how they’re going to do it. Árru means obstacle or barrier, and is really examining what is getting in the way of progress, and that even in the face of existential loss, justice must prevail in each and every family, if the kids are going to have faith not only in the grown-ups, but also in their own futures.
