‘Folktales’ review: Teens connect with nature at a different kind of school

For centuries, mythology looked to gods to explain a disquieting world. But in the new documentary “Folktales,” from “Jesus Camp” filmmakers Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady, which follows a trio of jumbled Scandinavian teens to a remote Norwegian school that builds character in the snowy wild, the answer to life may just lie in what “god” spells backward.

In other words, yes, let’s go to the dogs: sled dogs, specifically, whose personalities, purpose and compatibility are the secret sauce to a lesson plan that seeks to get kids out of their heads and into a stronger sense of self. The beautiful Alaskan and Siberian huskies that animate the dog-sledding instruction at Norway’s Pasvik Folk High School are what help lift this handsomely photographed film above the usual heart warmer.

Ewing and Grady are no stranger to this scenario, having observed at-risk Baltimore youth striving for stability (“The Boys of Baraka”) and unhappy Hasidic Jews attempting to remove themselves from all they’ve ever known (“One of Us”). The situation is less sociologically dire in “Folktales,” but it isn’t any less compelling as a subject or less worthy of empathetic attention, especially when the stage for potential transformation is as rapturous as the birthplace of Vikings.

Pasvik is 200 miles north of the Arctic Circle, which means self-reliance isn’t optional and knitting carries more practical weight than learning a math formula. As gap-year institutions dedicated to nurturing the transition to adulthood, folk schools have roots going back to the 19th century. Pasvik sees survival training as unlocking potential in teens too devoted to their phone screens. As convivial dog-sledding teacher Iselin puts it to the students, she wants to “wake up your Stone Age brains.”

For anxious, bubbly 19-year-old Hege, who lost her father and struggles with image issues, unplugging is tough at first. But she responds to its benefits, especially when entrusted with the care of Odin, a gorgeous, lovable canine with an expressive howl. Socially awkward Bjorn wants to stop harboring sad thoughts and second-guessing his nerdiness. Nothing like a majestic creature who rewards your undivided attention, then, to refocus one’s energies. When the students are tasked with spending two nights in the forest alone with just their assigned huskies and camping acumen, their struggles give way to a turning point, what another kindhearted instructor describes as the special inner peace that comes with just “a fire, a dog and a starry sky.”

You also gather that Ewing and Grady may have been seeking some inspiration themselves. Hence, some arty montages of the icy wilderness (including some woo-woo yarn-and-tree symbolism) and an ambiance closer to warm spotlight than objective inquiry.

That makes “Folktales” decidedly more powdery than densely packed — it’s all ruddy cheeks, slo-mo camaraderie and the healing power of steering a dog sled through breathtaking terrain. It looks exhilarating, and if the filmmakers are ultimately there to play, not probe, that’s fine, even if you may not know these kids at the end any better than you did at the beginning. It’s hard to say whether negative-minded high school dropout Romain will wind up on the other side of what troubles him. But we see how happy he is making friends and catching a glimpse of moose in the wild. It’s a simple message, but “Folktales” sells it: Nurture via nature.