Candidate Party 1972
In 1972, a group of spirited young people decide to take a satirical stand against Iceland's political landscape by forming their own absurdist party—the Candidate Party.
Director: Þorsteinn Jónsson
Cast
Frequently Asked Questions
What is Candidate Party (1972) about?
This documentary follows a group of Icelandic young adults who form a satirical political party called the Candidate Party when none of the existing options appeal to them. Their journey culminates in an unconventional campaign leading up to election day.
Who directed Candidate Party?
The film was helmed by Icelandic director Þorsteinn Jónsson, who brought a keen eye for observational humor and social commentary to this short documentary.
Who stars in Candidate Party?
The documentary features Karl Guðmundsson in a central role, alongside the members of the Candidate Party, a collective of young activists and satirists.
Is Candidate Party (1972) worth watching?
As an unrated 25-minute documentary, it leans into its niche appeal—ideal for audiences curious about political satire, 1970s Scandinavian filmmaking, or Icelandic history. Its brevity and wit make it a quick but memorable watch, though mainstream appeal may be limited.
How long is Candidate Party?
Candidate Party (1972) runs for 25 minutes.
About Candidate Party (1972) — A 25-Minute Satirical Campaign in Iceland's Political Landscape
In 1972, a group of spirited young people decide to take a satirical stand against Iceland's political landscape by forming their own absurdist party—the Candidate Party. Directed by Þorsteinn Jónsson, this short documentary captures their unconventional campaign through the lens of humor and youthful rebellion, blending political parody with deadpan wit. The film follows their journey from grassroots organizing to the surreal climax on election day, offering a time-capsule glimpse into a moment when idealism collided with absurdity.
Candidate Party (1972) isn't just a relic of its era; it's a playful yet sharp commentary on democracy's quirks and the thin line between mockery and sincerity. With a runtime of just 25 minutes, Jónsson crafts a tight, observational piece that feels both intimate and timeless, relying on minimal cast and maximal charm to deliver its message. The documentary's tone balances levity with a quiet critique, making it a fascinating watch for fans of political satire or short-form storytelling.