The mystery of Bjork; how did someone so otherworldly ever manage to become almost a household name, and in the grungy nineties to boot? Perhaps maybe the nineties weren’t as horrific as I remember them? In fact, most of my memories of the nineties are of depressing news stories and terrible music. Bjork herself didn’t really cross my radar at the time, except that I was vaguely convinced that she was Japanese. She never really struck me until I saw her in Dancer in the Dark, which is probably the world’s most depressing movie musical. I was impressed by her bazillion-award-winning performance, and the songs she wrote for it, and most of I was impressed by what she had to say about it all. She had practically had a nervous breakdown during filming and was very adamant that she would never put herself through such pain again. Anyone else would have wallowed in the acclaim and jumped all over the chance to do it again. Bjork hasn’t made another movie, except for a collaboration with her partner Matthew Barney. She meant it when she said she hated acting. And she’s shown the same fierce independence and total commitment to her own vision in her music, her style and her personal life. Which is endlessly admirable, at a time when talent and integrity are an increasingly rare combination.