Most people think that Lars Von Trier’s DANCER IN THE DARK was Bjork’s acting debut, but a full decade before she won the Best Actress Award at the 2000 Cannes Film Festival and received an Oscar nomination for Best Original Song, she starred in director Nietzchka Keene’s THE JUNIPER TREE.

The Juniper Tree gets its title from the Brothers Grimm story of the same name (which also inspired the poem by T.S. Eliot that opens the film) and was shot during the hiatus that followed the lukewarm reception of The Sugarcubes’ sophomore release, Here Today, Tomorrow Next Week! Since that record took its inspiration from the famous children’s book, The Wind in the Willows, fairytales appear to have been an important subtext of Bjork’s life at that time, with music representing the more aloof aspects and Keene’s film exposing the darker heart of myth.

Set in medieval Iceland, the influence of Ingmar Bergman is immediately apparent, and one can’t help but think of THE VIRGIN SPRING or THE SEVENTH SEAL, but the atmosphere of witchcraft that pervades the narrative is equally evocative of the films of Carl Theodor Dreyer, and the dreamlike reality of his DAY OF WRATH or ORDET. Bjork is one of two sisters on the run following the execution of their mother for practicing folk magic. They find shelter and companionship with a widower and his resentful son until signs of bewitchment surface to shatter their idyllic interlude. Moments of tragedy are sublimely transformed into sacred rituals and there is an otherworldliness that feels more like a fever dream than a film. It’s a strange coincidence that Ari Aster’s MIDSOMMER has arrived in theaters just ahead of the home video debut of THE JUNIPER TREE since each is steeped so heavily in Scandinavian traditions –with each reaching a different, lamentable conclusion.

The encyclopedic knowledge of European film history that Nietzchka Keene’s cinematic shorthand evidences metastasizes the misfortune of her early death. The glowing reviews the film received at the 1991 Sundance Film Festival were in their day interpreted as Bjork fandom instead of recognition of a major, new, filmmaking talent. Randy Sellars’ spectacular black and white photography takes full advantage of the stunning Icelandic landscapes, and experimental filmmaker Pat O’Neill’s waking dream sequences lend allegorical juxtaposition that primes The Juniper Tree for rediscovery among art house audiences and Bjork fans, alike.

The period setting and monochromatic palette lend a timelessness that makes the thirty years since it was filmed seem even longer since nothing about The Juniper Tree is evocative of the time in which it was made. It’s much more akin to the cinema of the late 50s and early 60s and yet somehow still ahead of its time in light of its commentary about misogyny. With most audiences seeing it now for the first time, there will undoubtedly be a sense of #metoo relevance that seems prophetic.

And if the film is a strange beauty, the music is the most ethereal representation of what we’ve come to expect from Bjork via her many exceptional endeavors. The camera loves Bjork, and so it’s easy to overlook how riveting her debut performance was, but thankfully neither does it suffer from elevated expectations.

Arbelos Films have put together yet another Criterion-worthy package in the tradition of their prior releases for Andrew Bujalski’s MUTUAL APPRECIATION and Dennis Hopper’s long-lost masterpiece, THE LAST MOVIE.

The Juniper Tree has been restored in 4K from the original 35mm picture negative, the original 35mm magnetic soundtrack, and the original 35mm mix stems by the Wisconsin Center for Film and Theater Research and The Film Foundation with funding provided by the George Lucas Family Foundation. The Blu-ray will be released by Arbelos Films on 9/10/19. The B&W English language film runs 78 minutes in widescreen aspect ratio of 1.66:1. Extras include 3 newly re-mastered short films by director Nietzchka Keene, a new video interview with cinematographer Randy Sellars, an archival interview with Keene (who passed away in 2004), never before seen outtakes, the US trailer, a new essay by Amy Sloper of the Harvard Film Archive and a film review by Angeline Gragasin of Screen Slate. SRP: $39.99