Today, I’m joined by Einar Egils, an acclaimed director and screenwriter based in Reykjavík whose work is redefining the boundaries of visual storytelling. Known for his striking aesthetic and emotionally resonant narratives, Einar has received widespread recognition, including a nomination at the MTV Video Music Awards and a coveted Vimeo Staff Pick.

His portfolio spans award-winning music videos and commercials, with accolades from the Icelandic and Faroese Music Awards, ÍMARK, and the Northern Wave Film Festival. Whether working with global icons like John Legend or crafting evocative local campaigns, Einar brings a singular vision to everything he touches.

Before we jump into the interview, take a moment and watch Einar’s music video for Eydís Evensen entitled Tephra Horizon below.

Where does your creative process begin when conceptualizing a dance-driven video like Tephra Horizon?

It always starts with an emotional reaction to the music — I close my eyes and start daydreaming.

With Tephra Horizon, there was this deep undercurrent of tension that eventually resolved into a climax of hope and release. That shift sparked strong visual imagery for me, and I immediately saw this burning circle.

How long did it take you to conceptualize, plan, and shoot this video?

The concept came together over just a few days — the idea of the burning circle emerged early, and Eydís and I both felt it captured the emotional arc of the piece: this sense of destruction giving way to renewal. But we had to assess whether the vision was achievable within the budget and the brutal conditions we had in mind.

The planning took a couple of weeks, mostly due to the weather. We originally aimed to shoot in December, but Iceland’s winter storms forced us to delay. We waited for the right moment — for still weather and that soft, low sunlight. Eventually, we landed on a day in January… and it turned out to be one of the coldest days recorded in decades in that part of the Reykjanes peninsula. It was unforgiving, especially for Eydís, who had to perform in the blistering cold.

What’s the collaboration like between you and Eydís, and the choreography that takes place during pre-production?

Eydís and I are partners in life, and we love creating art together, so the process is very open and intuitive. There was no choreography in the traditional sense. Eydís wanted the movement to come from within, to express her emotions in real time. She rehearsed privately on her own, and once we arrived on location, we blocked the scenes together with our crew, based on the natural light and terrain. It was all about responding to the environment and letting the music guide the movement.

 Dance is such a physical and expressive art form. From a cinematography & editing standpoint, how do you ensure that you capture the power of the performance for the audience?

Absolutely — it’s all about energy and presence. My DOP, Gunnar Auðunn, and I decided early on to shoot most of the dance sequences handheld. We wanted the camera to feel like it was breathing with her — close enough to capture the nuances in her movement, but also responsive to the rhythm of the music and the shifting natural light.

The same approach was applied to our FPV drone work with Svanur. Our conversations were about capturing the scale and texture of the historic lava field, and letting the stark winter sunlight feel like it was dancing across the land alongside her. So we used the FPV drone as somewhat of an instrument.

As for the edit, I simply cut in flow with the music. It’s hard to describe — the process is intuitive.

It’s about responding emotionally to the piece and letting that guide how each moment unfolds.

Are there specific visual metaphors or narrative threads you like to weave into Eydís’s videos?

Our first music video collaboration was Bylur, and honestly, it’s still the wildest project I’ve ever worked on. We documented the birth of a new volcano on the Reykjanes peninsula in 2021. We were among the first to fly over it in a helicopter, witnessing nature create new land in real-time — lava, smoke, fire — it was completely otherworldly and deeply emotional. That experience set the tone for our collaborations: we’re drawn to elemental forces, both in nature and in feeling.

For Tephra Horizon, we chose to shoot in an 800-year-old lava field near Fagradalsfjall — the same region where Bylur was filmed, but now covered in snow. It felt natural to weave in some of the unused eruption footage we had captured back then. Narratively, it’s all connected.

In Tephra Horizon, I was really struck by the circular structure engulfed in flames — it’s such a powerful and memorable visual. Can you share the inspiration behind that element and how it fits into the narrative or themes of the video?

The burning circle was a visual metaphor tied to the core theme of Eydís’s album The Light. It represents the full circle of life — the emotional highs and lows, the darkness, and the hope that follows. We wanted something elemental that could reflect that inner transformation: fire as destruction, but also as renewal.

There’s something ancient and ritualistic about a circle in flames, especially when placed in that vast, snow-covered lava field. In a way, it became a symbol of endurance — of continuing to move forward, even when everything around you feels frozen or hostile.

What camera, drone, and lenses were this music video shot on? Why was that your gear of choice?

We shot on the ARRI Alexa Mini with Leica R vintage primes and the Angénieux Optimo Ultra 12x zoom. For the aerials, we used an FPV drone flying a Blackmagic Pocket Cinema Camera 6K with a Sigma 18–35mm lens.

I’m a sucker for vintage glass, and the Leica R lenses were the perfect fit for this shoot — they have a softness and texture that felt right for the cold, volcanic landscape. I’m also a bit obsessed with the Angénieux zoom; it’s such a versatile and fun lens, and I try to use it on as many projects as I can.

Now let’s talk about Midnight Moon. You chose to shoot that video in black and white. Why?

The melancholic tone of the song just screamed for noir. Once we secured the location “Gamla Bíó” — one of Iceland’s oldest theatres — the decision to shoot in black and white felt obvious. It allowed me and my DP Anton Smári to emphasize the stark contrasts in the frame and bring focus to the dancers and Eydís in her scenes. It stripped everything down to emotion, light, and movement. It just felt right.

How are you achieving the moon effect (for example, at 1:49)? Is that a projector?

Yes — that’s a projection of a moon phase mapped onto the old theatre drapes at Gamla Bíó. It was a very minimal setup: just the moon projection and a single spotlight on the dancer. That simplicity created a quiet, almost surreal atmosphere that matched the tone of the track perfectly.

Lastly, if you could go back in time and give a younger version of yourself three pieces of creative advice regarding what it means to be a filmmaker, what would that advice be?

I’m not sure I’d give myself any advice, to be honest. I wouldn’t change anything. My path into filmmaking has been a long learning curve, and every misstep taught me something I needed to learn.

But if I were to give advice to someone just starting out, it would be:

1. Be yourself and tell your own, personal stories — especially the ones you’re shy about or even ashamed of. That’s where the truth lives.
2. Pick up a camera and start shooting. Don’t wait for permission or the perfect idea.
3. Fail as hard as you can. That’s where the growth happens.