Empowering Underrepresented Voices in Greenland and Beyond: Interview with EAVE graduate Emile Hertling Péronard
“I realised there is a global community of Indigenous filmmakers trying to help and empower each other, doing exactly what we talk about at EAVE — changing systems and building awareness.”
By Lilla Kadar
© Frank Schoepgens
EAVE graduate Emile Hertling Péronard, Greenlandic expert of the EAVE Producers Workshop, and group leader of the EAVE Sámi Producers Lab, has recently been appointed to be EAVE’s National Coordinator for Denmark. We sat down at this occasion to speak about producing in Greenland, his work around equity and inclusion, his different roles and recent films, and the upcoming EAVE THINK TANK panel in Cannes.
EAVE: The EAVE IMPACT THINK TANK, in which you have been actively involved, will present its latest results at the Cannes Marché du Film on May 17th. Why do you think the work EAVE does with the Think Tank is relevant, and what is your motivation to be part of it?
Emile Hertling Péronard: I have been part of the Think Tank for two years, focusing on inclusive co-productions. Joining EAVE’s Producers Workshop in 2021 was something I had considered for years to grow as a producer, and while I gained valuable knowledge, one of the biggest takeaways was the international network — it offered benefits far beyond individual projects! Every interaction, meeting, keynote or panel since has felt deeply rewarding, echoing the spirit of the workshop. Taking part in the Think Tank also aligned with my long-standing focus on diversity and inclusion, particularly in empowering underrepresented voices in film.
As a Greenlandic filmmaker, I faced systemic barriers, like being ineligible for Danish film funding, which highlighted how the industry has historically excluded many. Now that more people from underrepresented regions can create films thanks to technology, it's vital to address structural barriers and racism and to discuss issues that Indigenous and BIPOC people have felt trying to emerge through film funding systems. EAVE, especially through the Producers Workshop, plays a key role in that. The discussions I bring to the Think Tank, and to the EAVE Racial Equity Advisory Board that I’m also a part of, naturally extend from my background and from early conversations at the Producers Workshop, thanks to my very diverse group D.
As producers, we always try to find solutions to get where we want to go. But as Indigenous or global majority filmmakers, we are used to navigating systems not built for us: the road is not paved with public funding and broadcasters, so we need to find different ways. Inclusive co-production discussions at the Think Tank reflect our lived realities, and we try to answer the question: how can we change the system so the next generation doesn’t face the same obstacles?
At the shoot of the Oscar-nominated short film Ivalu, co-produced for Polarama Greenland © Paninnguaq Heilmann
How come Greenlanders didn’t have access to film funding in Denmark?
When Greenland gained home rule in 1979, some policies, for instance, cultural policy, were gradually taken over from Denmark. While that shift gave us more autonomy, it also closed the door to Danish resources — leaving us with very limited means to develop film. There was no filmmaking system before then: Greenlandic TV began in 1982, the first short film was produced in 1999, and the first feature in 2009. Everything started late and on minimal budgets, with in-kind services and help sourced locally.
Only 3–4 years ago did we manage to establish a special Danish funding scheme — NORDDOK — focused on documentaries from Greenland and the Faroe Islands, so that Greenlandic companies can now get production funding from Denmark. This came from our political advocacy and pushing for change, because the system simply wasn’t built for us. My new film, WALLS – AKINNI INUK which premiered at CPH:DOX 2025 and won the Nordic Dox Award, is the first since the very first film I did 11 years ago that I’ve been able to make as a majority Greenlandic producer! Until now, all my films had to go through my Danish company to secure funding. This is a clear example of how, as producers, we often have to push the system to change — by lobbying, advocating, and demonstrating the value of our work to prove to the people in power that this is something that they should really pay more attention to.
That’s very inspiring also to other Greenlandic filmmakers! Are there many?
The film community in Greenland is small but dedicated, around 50 individuals working professionally or semi-professionally in filmmaking as independent filmmakers (not employed at the TV station for instance). It is organised under a filmmakers’ association called Film.gl, established in 2012 and which has since been the only film body in Greenland, as we do not yet have a national film institute.
Not yet! But you are actually working on setting up one, right?
Yes, exactly. For years, our film association has advocated for a film institute — writing reports to politicians explaining how it could work and why it’s needed. We highlighted key aspects like the arms-length principle, ensuring decisions are made independently and professionally, not politically – which is fundamental in all areas of democratic society. Previously, film funding came directly from the government, with the cultural minister signing grants. While I never felt my projects were blocked for political reasons, it's not ideal to depend on who is in charge. With a film institute, we will finally have a dedicated fund, qualified project readers, and a film commissioner to build the infrastructure.
The cohort and experts of the first ever EAVE Sámi Producers Lab in Guovdageaidnu, October 2024 © ISFI
You have been working on the Sámi Producers Lab - organised by EAVE in partnership with the International Sámi Film Institute and Netflix - as an EAVE expert. What is the relationship between Inuit and Sámi people and are their narratives relatively similar?
We are not the same people, but we are both Indigenous, colonised by similar countries, so there are many shared experiences we can talk about. Filmmaking opened that world to me — our first film in 2014 was selected for Toronto-based Indigenous film festival imagineNATIVE, and it was my first real encounter with other Indigenous filmmakers from all over the world. It was profound to see how they connected with our story and how we connected with theirs — we are all trying to reclaim our narratives through film.
At Berlinale in 2015, we saw the first native stand at EFM and reconnected with many of those people who had been at imagineNATIVE. That’s when I realised there is a global community of Indigenous filmmakers trying to help and empower each other, doing exactly what we talk about at EAVE — changing systems and building awareness. It’s really unique that I can have a conversation with a filmmaker from Aotearoa (New Zealand) and feel that we share history and values more so than I would with a non-Indigenous filmmaker from my neighbouring country.
Since then, we have worked closely with ISFI and imagineNATIVE, and we make sure to include these voices at our own film festival in Nuuk. These collaborations may be harder to fund, but they are deeply meaningful. So, when we talk about inclusive co-productions, it’s not only about power imbalances — it’s also about immediate trust, shared values and how much easier it is to work with those who truly understand where we are coming from.
The Arctic Indigenous Film Fund (AIFF) is part of the ecosystem. While it doesn’t yet support full productions, it funds development, workshops, and cross-border project — like the Witness program, where Arctic Indigenous filmmakers make 5-minute-long climate documentaries. The goal is to eventually provide production funding across borders, — just like ISFI does for Sámi filmmakers across Norway, Sweden, and Finland. It’s very unique for a film funding body to be able to do that. The same would be the case for the AIFF; it would be able to give money also to Greenland, to Canada, to Alaska, and all the Arctic regions that have indigenous peoples. That cross-border support is rare and powerful — and it’s something we really need more of.
But the Greenlandic film fund will be a national fund?
Yes, the Greenlandic film fund will be a national institute, similar to public film funding bodies in Europe. But there are exciting developments — for example, in Canada, Inuit from Greenland can now be counted as Canadian in the funding point system, since we are the same people separated by a colonial border. This change could make it easier for Greenlandic and Canadian Inuit to collaborate and access Canadian film funding.
Many changes are happening and adapting to the needs of people, right?
I am really hopeful. I mean, I know that now it’s a really difficult time when it comes to inclusion and diversity for other reasons, but at the same time I feel that the work that we have done and also the results that have come out of the EAVE Think Tanks is actually getting people to listen and institutions to realize that maybe it is a problem that the Canadian-Danish co-production treaty has been signed in 1997 and hasn’t been changed since and maybe we do need to think a little bit different in today’s age.
This year at CPH:DOX I moderated a panel on inclusive and equitable co-productions, using the 2024 Think Tank report as a starting point to discuss filmmakers' experiences and challenges. The ideas strongly resonated with participants from other countries like Brazil and India, highlighting the urgent need for more balanced, sustainable collaboration models — something even Danish filmmakers, despite their privileged funding system, are beginning to acknowledge.
Producer Emile Hertling Péronard, director Lin Alluna and protagonist Aaju Peter at the opening of Twice Colonized in 2023 © CPH:DOX
Your most recent films TWICE COLONIZED and WALLS – AKINNI INUK generated many conversations at the festivals and got awarded generously. How have these films been actually made?
TWICE COLONIZED often comes up in discussions about co-production. It's a story about an Inuit woman from Greenland living in Canada, connecting both communities. The main character is lawyer Aaju Peter who has led a lifelong fight for the rights of Inuit people. When her youngest son unexpectedly passes away, Aaju embarks on a personal journey to bring her colonizers in both Canada and Denmark to justice.
I initially wanted to co-produce with Inuit producers Alethea Arnaquq-Baril and Stacey Aglok MacDonald of Red Marrow Media in the province of Nunavut, just an hour from Nuuk, but we hit a deadlock: not only I couldn’t raise enough funds in Greenland, but they lacked the track record to access national funding in Canada. Also, the Canadian funding system is so bureaucratic that it can be overwhelming for small companies, creating major barriers to meaningful collaborations.
After pitching at Hot Docs in 2019, Canadian company EyeSteelFilm joined Red Marrow in the project, securing the national funding and empowering us as the Indigenous majority producers. In the meantime, I established a company in Denmark to access Danish funding. In the end, we made it happen through an “intra-commonwealth” co-production between Greenland and Denmark and an “intra-provincial” co-production between Nunavut and Quebec. We were finally able to actually overcome the obstacles, work together and make the first Inuit co-production across colonial borders a reality. Now, Canadian funders use the film as an example of why the system needs to change — even CBC, the Canadian Broadcaster’s commissioning editor recently said it influenced how they view co-productions!
How did the audience resonate with the film?
The film resonated deeply in both Denmark and Canada, premiering at Sundance, then opening CPH:DOX and Hot Docs in the same year. I think it was an example of how important this discussion is in both Denmark and Canada, about these countries’ responsibilities towards the colonial trauma that this film explores through such a personal and intimate story. But its real impact came when it returned home to Greenland and Nunavut, where Aaju could reclaim her story and see how powerfully the film sparked conversations, for example in the Friday Night Talk Show. Despite the emotional weight of being a character in a big scale creative documentary, she says she was grateful for the dialogues and impact it has created. I think all this makes it very worthwhile. That’s why we do it, at the end of the day.
WALLS - AKINNI INUK © Ánorâk Film, photo: Sofie Rordam
What about your next film, WALLS – AKINNI INUK?
WALLS – AKINNI INUK shares the same ideology as our other films: bringing out underrepresented voices. It’s set in a Greenlandic prison, where my friend Nina began filming nearly a decade ago. She met Ruth, a woman serving an indefinite sentence — meaning she might never be released — and they formed a powerful friendship. The film explores how two seemingly different people can deeply connect, help each other, even across very different lives.
It challenges our assumptions: Who is someone convicted of murder, really? Nina and Ruth discover they were both sexually abused as children. Nina had fantasised about revenge; Ruth had acted on it, which is why she is in the prison. The film becomes a dialogue about trauma, justice, and how thin the lines can be between drastically different life outcomes, depending on individual decisions. It’s also about giving a voice to someone who we tend as society to forget after we have locked them away.
Thanks to NORDDOK funding, and because the two directors Sofie Rørdam and Nina Paninnguaq Skydsbjerg were able to film over many years on a shoestring budget, we could make this a fully Greenlandic production, without the need for international co-production.
That’s impressive. Are local productions like that common in Greenland?
Not really. Most filmmakers back home work with tiny budgets, often doing everything themselves — you’ll see the same name over and over in the credits. But if you want a professional, international-level production with experienced crew — like for example our amazing editors on WALLS — you need external funding. That’s always the challenge.
Together with Pipaluk K. Jørgensen, I founded my fiction production company in Greenland as a service company in 2020, but now we’re doing co-productions and our own projects. We have just finished shooting a major French feature in Northern Greenland — the biggest production we have ever handled with substantial Greenlandic involvement. More international projects are on the way, and our goal is to ensure Greenlandic filmmakers are part of them! These films are coming to Greenland regardless (we have stunning locations), so we want to make sure our people get the experience and opportunities they bring.
Sharing knowledge and building up local talent is a big part of our mission. That’s also why I joined the Sámi Producers Lab — it’s such an important initiative! Greenland faces the same problem: many talented filmmakers are producing their own work because there simply aren’t enough producers. Long term, that’s risky. If we don’t train producers, foreign companies will take over our stories and control - we need to empower Greenlandic producers. I’d love for them to experience something like the Sámi Producers Lab — it was incredibly valuable. And if we can make this tough job a bit more appealing, maybe more people will see what an amazing, meaningful career it can be, beyond all the paperwork, to be a producer.
At the shoot of KALAK co-produced by Polarama Greenland © Emilie Steen
Page published 12 May 2025. Updated 27 May 2025.
