Don Shanahan
The introduction of the title character in Hekla is something to truly soak in. The camera moves with a boom jib shot from toe to head to reveal a young woman in a pink, belted outfit and bold makeup accentuations. The film takes a good, long look at this figure as she lifts a crown to her head and looks right down the barrel of the lens into our watching eyes. This moment turns out to be the fleeting imagery of a dream in color, as the plainer version of the figure wakes up to an apartment bedroom in a black-and-white real world. Immediately, we see this woman, played by Elizabeth Stam, and wonder what the dream in question is and how far the character is from achieving it.
Stam is Hekla Gudmunsdottir, an aspiring actress in Chicago, last seen stealing scenes in Michael Glover Smith’s previous ensemble feature, Relative, who, according to omniscient narration from Twin Peaks icon Wendy Robie, has a very full day ahead of herself on March 23, 2026, after an early morning lakefront jog. She has four—count ‘em, four—auditions for different gigs crisscrossing the city and an evening capped off by a Backroom Shakespeare Project performance. Along the way, Hekla is also trying to squeeze in lunch with her romantic partner, Tyler Hrabosky (Mary Tilden), at Mimi’s and a portrait photographer appointment for new headshots.
Broken into titled acts and using Chicago’s public transportation system of buses and trains as scenic, breath-catching transitions, Hekla treads with Stam acting out this hectic itinerary. Each act covers one of the four auditions, with an intermission break for those headshots. Promising to be a peak, the fifth and final chapter is dedicated to the performance of “The Scottish Play” at Cunnen’s on the east side of the diverse Rogers Park neighborhood of Chicago.
If thespian glory is indeed the ultimate goal, we are presented with a determined and vivacious candidate ready to knock the socks off the world. Yet, we are all too aware how difficult and woolly this road may be. Through this collaborative screenplay effort by Smith and Stam, Hekla takes audiences into these casting sessions filled with professional pitfalls and unexpected hoops to craft a gem of a character arc. Hekla’s first audition, surprisingly—and regrettably—has her reading a bitter domestic argument scene with an actual ex-boyfriend (Conor Foley) for a persnickety director (short film specialist Jim Vendiola) with his share of notes. The second one, later, is the complete opposite; a scriptless and open-ended litmus test of vibe and personality with the vaguest experimental director (Grant Carriker) you can imagine. To think, two more unpredictable opportunities follow.
In each audition, Hekla Gudmunsdottir finds herself adjusting to the suggestions and giving it her all, no matter if it’s for a full-sized production or a trivial TV commercial. We watch this artist pour her heart out over and over to get “maybes” and “we’ll call you either way” answers. These dramatic swings telegraph the struggles of patience and poise required of actors. They have to constantly be prepared for a total effort and smile in the face of indifference. Then, actors must endure the eternal wait for either fortuitous approval or delayed denial. Either way, the prolonged torment of those decisions can rattle one’s confidence and follow them out of the performance spaces. That becomes the case when Tyler wants to talk about feelings, but Hekla cannot or will not
Lifting what would be agonizing with visual flair is Michael Glover Smith’s hue shifts during Hekla’s performances. Anytime she is being recorded, cinematographer Jose Perez (What Rhymes with Magdalena?) takes the perspective of that scene’s camera and puts the film in color, creating lush pauses from the monochrome French New Wave approach lent to the rest of Hekla. That extra layer of vibrance—along with the pep given by the soundtrack and score selections by Trev Gibb and King of the Sea—emphasizes the parallel between the opening dream sequence and the playful pretending of acting.
Perhaps it’s no coincidence that “Hekla” is Icelandic for “cloak” and matches the name of the most active stratovolcano on the island. Powerfully conveyed through Elizabeth Stam’s full range of personality permutations, it’s fascinating to examine Hekla’s switcheroos of color and wonder how much of a performative cloak we are watching. Can events in the monochromatic reality be better than the dreary palette they take place within? Does color tip off that Hekla Gudmunsdottir is more alive on camera than off? At the same time, can we ask the same questions of Stam herself, making all of this come to life?
Perfect to the expression, Elizabeth Stam is the straw that stirs the drink. For “one single day” movies like Hekla to succeed, they need a central character you want to be around and never miss a moment with during the running time of a fictional day, thanks to a compelling performance by the given actor. Well-steeped Renaissance man Michael Glover Smith has found and granted that kind of magic to Elizabeth Stam in the title role. Our draw to her is instant, and you want to watch her world as soon as she puts on that crown in the dream and symbolically chases it when she awakes. Moreover, you freely lend your observant heart to her with the allure and empathy she generates. We can’t take our eyes off Stam across the best and worst parts of her journey, right down to the huzzah-level post-credits stinger.
