A White, White Day

Arthouse, slow burn, slow pace - all those things are correct to say the least. And depending on the amount of slack you are willing to cut it ... you will be able to enjoy this on different levels. It really takes more than a while to go ... well "off". But when it does (towards the end) ... there is more than just a little impact to it.

The main actor gives it his all. Whether it is a powerful scene or one that is as subtle as it gets. Add to that a child actor who is amazing as well and you got a great combo/team. Not for everyone, for obvious reasons, but those who will like it, will love it.

"For some reason, she was always enough for me."

Hvíter Hvíter Dager, Iceland's Oscar entry for Best Foreign Film this year, is a quiet, mature look at grief and memory. It is about a man who carries within him a love so pure, he struggles to understand anything else. It is about refusing to let go of the version of someone you want to hold onto forever.

The narrative slowly unravels like a novel as themes are explored through nuance and metaphor. The delicate dealing with love lost recalls Lee Chang-dong's Secret Sunshine and Céline Sciamma's Portrait de La Jeune Fille en Feu, regarding the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. The cinematography, shot in a noticeably textured 35mm, is peculiar in the way it involves the setting and keeps us a certain physical distance from the characters. I think Michael Haneke would be proud of this film.

The central character Ingimunder's relationship with his granddaughter Salka serves the film in predictable but endearing ways. Strong child acting is often taken for granted, but Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir's performance is far from typical. It is also a testament to both fine direction (Hlynur Palmason) and strong casting because the two leads are almost irreplaceable and truly contribute to make the film something special.

A White, White Day is enriched by its simplicity and singularity as it takes on heavy themes. The characters are real, the story is thoughtfully restrained, and the ending is remarkable. One of the more memorable films of the year.

... that almost self extinguishes but is saved by the rage of a widower upon discovering the infidelity of his dead spouse. The lines between sanity, grief, madness and anger achingly filmed and pondering through the mistiness of recollection.

The opening frames of Hlynur Palmason's movie "A White, White Day" conveys weather and landscape in a way very few movies have. It's clear seasons and time are passing in a dizzying, almost disorientating, fashion so when people finally appear, (an elderly man and his granddaughter), they feel as if they shouldn't be here and when we move indoors, it's like a alien place, particularly as there is a horse in the living room. And then it's back to more of the same, images of a landscape, but now with people occasionally appearing at a distance..

In part an intimate psychological study of its central character, Ingimundur, (a superb, award-winning performance from Ingvar Sigurdsson), and in part a study of the harsh environment in which he lives, Palmason's film is a visually stunning and often relentless 'thriller', dealing with the themes of grief, jealousy and revenge. It's also the kind of film that clearly belongs in the Northern Hemisphere where nature at its least forgiving determines both the landscape and the character of its inhabitants. You could say Ingimundur is the way he is becasue of his environment.

The plot evolves slowly yet inexorably with dialogue kept to a minimum. As a thriller it reminded me of the television series "True Detective" which certainly took its time and wasn't really concerned with resolving issues; the pace here is decidedly languorous and the film is open-ended. A huge hit on the festival circuit and the Icelandic entry for the Oscars, it should also prove very popular with art-house audiences.

My partner & I are obsessive Icelandic fans - and absorb most of the culture there that we can get our hands on. Most film & TV that manage to get this far are surprisingly bleak and Hvítur dagur is no exception.

The film is a rather dry tale of one man's descent and journey through grief with some arresting visuals and an unexpectedly, almost avant, presentation. The lilting drift between stark reality and implied fantasy isn't particularly well defined (intentionally enigmatic rather) - leaving the potentially enlightening ending as a dull thud for me. The draw here is the particularly strong lead performance (Ingvar Sigurðsson, playing a very different type of tragic character than he did in Ófærð) and as always, the biggest star of any Icelandic film, the stunningly monumental and ever-changing countryside.