Snowcahontas and the Arctic Midlife Crisis

Right. So imagine, if you will, living most of your life on a sun-drenched Mediterranean rock, where the worst weather you’ll face is the occasional lukewarm breeze that might gently rearrange your hair. Now, take that life, and drop it violently into a place where boiling water turns into snow mid-air, and stepping outside without gloves is the human equivalent of microwaving a chicken from the inside out. Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Arctic. Or more specifically, to Netflix’s North of North a show that, against all odds, makes the -30°C North look like a trendy Airbnb destination for emotional breakdowns.

And yet… somehow, it works.

Meet Siaja. She’s Inuk. She’s 26. She’s got cheekbones sharp enough to cut through seal blubber and the kind of determined optimism that would make Paddington Bear look like a depressive. Played with actual sparkle by Anna Lambe, Siaja has left her husband, Ting, who is essentially Top Gun if Maverick had a God complex and flew a plane that smelled of fish. She moves back in with her mother, dragging along her daughter, Bun, who is adorable, sassy, and possibly the only child on TV who doesn’t make you want to move to a remote island with no Wi-Fi.

Now, Neevee the mum is a former party animal turned soapseller who will absolutely stab you with a snow knife if you even think about taking the last piece of seal jerky. She’s played by Maika Harper with just the right balance of “fun aunt” energy and “trauma-fuelled sass.” Their mother-daughter relationship is as warm as an igloo lit by a single tea light, occasionally glowing, but mostly frosty and insulated with passive aggression.

The plot? Standard: Woman finds self. Woman gets job. Woman maybe gets laid. Except it’s not standard, because instead of New York lattes and yoga classes, we’re getting seal hunts, traditional Arctic games, and shamanic plot twists. Imagine Eat, Pray, Love, but set in a freezer, with a soundtrack that sounds like your ex breathing over the phone at 3am. Sexy, confusing, and weirdly ambient.

There’s a moment and I’m not making this up where someone tells Siaja:
“You’re like a cross between Snow White and Pocahontas… Snowcahontas!”

Which, frankly, is so ridiculous it deserves its own line of Arctic-themed perfume.

Supporting characters include a hilariously uptight boss called Helen (played by Mary Lynn Rajskub, clearly enjoying herself), a pair of new blokes who look like they wandered onto the set from a rejected Hallmark script, and the aforementioned Ting, who looks like he moisturises with motor oil and disappointment.

The cinematography is criminally gorgeous. Wide shots of icy landscapes, saturated colours, and every snowflake practically shouting “This isn’t a filter, Karen, it’s nature.” There’s even a subplot involving resentment towards outsiders , which is fair, because if I’d been freezing my bits off in Ice Cove for decades and some smiling researcher in Gore-Tex turned up talking about “community partnerships,” I’d probably push him into a snowdrift too.

But here’s the thing: it’s good. Really good. The acting is solid. The cultural insights are thoughtful. The humour hits, and the emotional beats don’t feel like they were lifted from a badly translated IKEA manual.

Verdict: 4 out of 5 stars.
Watch North of North if you want something charming, cold, and full of heart. Like an Inuk romcom set in a fridge, only better written, and with less chance of frostbite.