If you change your perspective on a stranger that you see on the street, could that goodwill change the world? We judge too quickly, and we do not show enough compassion to those we assume too much about. Nicolaj Kopernikus’ From Above follows one artist’s fall from grace, but his personal absolution will restore your hope.
When we first meet Kopernikus’ Morten, he is showing his daughter, Viola, how to arrange clothes from the hamper into the design of a tiger on the floor. When his wife spies what he is doing, she looks at him with concern even though Viola looks at her father with childlike wonder. We then flash foward to a grizzled Morten trying to catch a glimpse of his daughter from the street. His hair is frazzled, his face is dirty, and his clothes are worn. How can someone come into such circumstances? Kopernikus drew inspiration from a total stranger.
“I was inspired by a man who was standing outside our supermarket,” Kopernikus says. “He was homeless, at least I think he was, and, at the time, I was looking for a story to explore. I wondered what would happen if I looked at him from another perspective? What if I looked at his background and thought about how he got to this place? I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I wanted to know more about what his family would’ve been like.”
Producer Kim Magnussen (Oscar winner in this category for Election Night and Helium) is drawn to stories about our humanity and kindness. He always takes a genuine interest in how or why a character’s life is colored.
“This was our second film together after Stenofonen,” Magnussen begins, “and I know he has more stories to tell. We actually live close to each other, and I know the person that Nicolaj is talking about. My kids had a fear of him even though he didn’t do anything wrong. Denmark doesn’t have that many homeless people, especially when compared to Los Angeles or New York. Nicolaj and I got to talking about him and then he had the idea for the story, and we wondered what it would be like if this person came into another situation? We actually discovered, because we saw him in nice clothing, that he came from nice standing, but, as with a lot of people in this situation, something happened to change his life forever.
I’ve always felt it was important to tell these kinds of stories. We need to understand what is behind the man or woman or what is in their past. Putting focus on real people matters–it’s not something that I seek out. It’s in my DNA, and I truly fell for this story.”
Since Morten is an artist, Kopernikus subtly uses color to enhance our experience. Early in the film, Morten’s home is filled with softer whites and his daughter’s striped sweater carries bright yellows. When Morten is at his lowest, the lighting is darker with hues of browns and greys.
“The details are very important,” Kopernikus admits. “I had a lot of conversations with the DP and the costume designer, so we weren’t just relying on browns, greens, and nature. This plastic portait that Morten makes is make of plastic, so there is texture there. It had to be significant, in a way–a piece of real art. Since this is short film filmmaking, we have to make the right choices. If your father told you to make a picture of a tiger with your clothes, you might look at him in a certain way. It’s not common sense for most father figures.
When Morten takes his redemption into his own hands, he enters a lavish spa and takes a man’s expensive clothes after he takes an electric razor to his beard and hair. Kopernikus could’ve leaned into melodrama, but, instead, he gives the tone a lightness as Morten is amused by his own transformation. The most important thing? Making sure the camera was on.
“That was a special night,” Kopernikus says. “We had one shot, because I was shaving off real hair. I grew it as long as my hair and my beard could be, and then we added some extensions. I have always wanted to do a scene where I cut off all of my hair in front of a camera–I got this idea many years ago. I didn’t think that I could ask up a colleague and request that he cut all of his hair off, you know. I had such a good time with that scene, but I made sure that the red button was turned on the camera. It’s shot into the mirror, and we had to make sure that we didn’t see our DP’s reflection.”
“We only had one camera, but I think everybody else was shooting on their iPhones,” Magnussen says. “We had some insurance. It was important to me that Morten had a sense of humor, and that’s why we were putting him like the skin of a snake.”
“Morten puts that art on the floor as a piece of sense of humor, but it’s also about him leaving himself somewhere,” Kopernikus adds.
Morten’s artistic spirit aids his first reconciliation with Viola. Kopernikus isn’t suggesting that everything is rosy or that he will go back to living in his house, but it’s important to remember these first steps. The next time you see an unhoused person on the street, consider where they came from or what they are trying to get back to. The director hopes this film hints at more empathy and recognition.
“There is forgiveness, I think,” Kopernikus muses. “There is understanding after eight years. I reach out to you, you reach out to me. I think Viola came to see her dad, because she wanted to tell him that she loves him. With his ex-wife, it’s not like they are getting back together or they are celebrating Christmas with one another, but there is now a new beginning to that relationship. He is an artist, and he is not able to make that connection. Morten will leave the bench and find a place to live. It matters if you want to reach out for a family member. The point of seeing things from above is that you can see the details. Before his transformation, people would see him outside the supermarket and view Morten as trash. He’s not. He has a valuable energy and a loving heart. That’s the true moral of the story.”
“I am a sweetheart for this kind of story, but it really is up for the audience to interpret it,” Magnussen says.
