A while back, I translated this talk show interview from Vikan með Gísla Marteini. As it turns out, this was not all there was to it: in this video, we can see the full Hatari segment, which includes a short, hilarious mockumentary on Hatari by comedian Berglind Festival (who would do these humourous segments on Gísli Marteinn’s show), starting at about 7:48 in the linked video (it should link to that timestamp). I’ve translated it (and the brief dialogue that comes after it) below, but please watch the video alongside the translation; it’s funnier with everyone’s expressions.

The band Hatari will go on stage to represent Iceland in Eurovision in Tel Aviv on May 14th, and the nation is holding its collective breath. “We’ll finally win Eurovision,” say some. “I demand Hatari assume full responsibility for the Israeli-Palestinian conflict,” say others. But let’s start at the beginning. What is this Hatari thing?

Iceland. The year is nineteen ninety-something. Hatari is born at the National Hospital and goes through traditional schooling. Suddenly everyone’s talking about Hatari and they’re heading to Tel Aviv to lead their nation to victory in Eurovision. But what are these leather-clad beings up to? When did they first take an interest in toppling capitalism? And how are they going to buy all these straps when capitalism has fallen? What is their true goal?

[Berglind interviews Guðlaugur Þór Þórðarson, Minister of Foreign Affairs.]

BERGLIND: Why did the Ministry of Foreign Affairs decide to found Hatari?

GUÐLAUGUR: This is our contribution to Eurovision. I think it’s very important that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs safeguards the interests of the country and its people, and Eurovision is definitely a place where we want to make a difference. Really, it’s a wonder this is the first time the Ministry has directly interfered in the way that we’re doing now.

BERGLIND: Have you made any plans at the Ministry for Hatari’s victory in the contest?

GUÐLAUGUR: Sure. Of course, we have a precedent, which was the Independence Festival [massive 1994 celebration of fifty years of Icelandic independence, remembered for huge traffic jams], but we expect this to be bigger, involving more people. And we’ve decided to celebrate not just in the Icelandic embassies in Europe, but also our embassies in North America and Asia.

BERGLIND: Is it true that Iceland will be one of the biggest BDSM destinations in the world after this?

GUÐLAUGUR: I think that’s very likely. We’re going to have to see how it plays out, of course, but it’s something we’re strongly expecting.

And what about the children? It turns out Eurovision is not only for the gays: it’s also for kids. Recent studies show that our children have become both more open and less prejudiced after Hatari won Söngvakeppnin. At the same time, kids’ orgies have grown in popularity, and community centers’ BDSM clubs are fully booked.

But despite the huge popularity of Hatari, not everyone is thrilled with the band.

[Berglind sits down with a robed figure whose face can’t be seen, but I suspect it’s Andrean.]

BERGLIND: Do you think Hatari is a total sellout?

FIGURE [titled “a member of Hatari’s youth movement from the early years”]: Yeah… Mm.

But the inevitable question on everyone’s minds is probably: what effects will leather straps have on our culture and society as a whole?

[She interviews Sólhrafn Elí Gunnarsson, board member of the Icelandic BDSM society.]

BERGLIND: Your people have got to be pretty pumped for Eurovision this year.

SÓLHRAFN: Yeah, we are.

BERGLIND: But well, Hatari is very popular with kids. Have you had any kids trying to register for your organization?

SÓLHRAFN: No, that hasn’t happened.

BERGLIND: But what does Hatari mean for our culture?

SÓLHRAFN: More leashes. More leather. More spikes.

BERGLIND: Only fun.

According to the dictionary, culture is the furthering of human qualities and what separates us from the animals. But… animals are often also on a leash.

[She sits down to interview Bergsteinn Sigurðsson, “culture guy”, and Guðrún Sóley Gestsdóttir, “culture lady”]

BERGLIND: What does Hatari mean for our culture?

BERGSTEINN: That’s a good question, Berglind. I think instead of viewing Hatari as a band, or as performance art, it’s more accurate to regard it as a state of being.

GUÐRÚN SÓLEY: Exactly. A state of being that describes the familiar symbols of consumerism, rearranges them, and thus examines the overlap between cultural and societal phenomena.

BERGSTEINN: Exactly! Hatari is stepping into the territory of visual meaning by evoking stereotypes about capitalistic prosperity and wrapping them in a certain uncanniness, thus reconstructing cultural and ideological systems, in an attempt to redefine the human experience.

GUÐRÚN SÓLEY: All that’s left is the contemplation of whether we’re dealing with a sincere staging or a staged sincerity.

BERGSTEINN: Also the guy who plays the gimp is seriously hot.

[She interviews Goddur (Guðmundur Oddur Magnússon), professor at the Academy of the Arts.]

BERGLIND: What does Hatari mean for our culture?

GODDUR: Well, it means that we’re putting real artists out there. It’s a really strong group of artists, both musically and visually, who know how to reach the souls of people using what we call sarcasm or opposites. Everyone knows that love has won, but it’s tacky to say it. That’s why you use the opposite, and you get this strong reaction, at a time, in a place, where - you can’t imagine how much hate there is in that area.

BERGLIND: But what will happen if Hatari wins the contest?

GODDUR: They’ll definitely get worldwide attention, because it’s so loaded with meaning. And it’s only going to do good.

BERGLIND: What’s your favorite part of the song?

GODDUR: Well, the chorus, of course. That’s where you get the goosebumps.

Is the Icelandic nation ready to end up as the victor? I felt as if with every question I asked, hundreds of others arose. I felt as if Eurovision were eating me up from the inside, and only one man could save me.

[She interviews Friðrik Dór Jónsson, singer.]

BERGLIND: Friðrik, what’s going to happen to us?

[Friðrik looks worried and uncertain and then shakes his head slightly, in silence.]





After this mockumentary segment, we cut back to the main show, with Hatari sitting on the couch with finance minister Bjarni Benediktsson and actresses Brynhildur Guðjónsdóttir and Salka Sól Eyfeld. Gísli Marteinn says that we’ve now learned a lot about Hatari (he has a grammatical fumble and asks if they can cut that, which is amusing), and says that he thinks he’s speaking for the whole Icelandic nation in saying we’ll all be crossing our fingers hoping for Hatari to make us proud and do great.

GÍSLI MARTEINN: I know Einar’s pumped for this, or so I’ve heard.

Einar stares, emotionless.

MATTHÍAS: Yeah, you may be right.

GÍSLI MARTEINN: If you need a backup, Bjarni here isn’t too dissimilar…

MATTHÍAS: As a backup drum gimp?

GÍSLI MARTEINN: I don’t know if he’s as good at the drums, or the bass line, as Einar.

KLEMENS: We do need a bass gimp, too.

SALKA: Isn’t it all fake anyway?

MATTHÍAS: In Eurovision everything is fake, but he really does play the drums at our gigs, admirably.

Then Gísli Marteinn thanks the guests and bids them farewell.