Hvítur, hvítur dagur

Amazing Icelandic drama, with a great score and ambience, not recommended for those annoyed with slow-paced movies

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.

... 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.

Bottomless grief, that is the main ingredient in this Icelandic film. How a man mourns the loss of his beloved wife. Masterfully played in a beautiful landscape, we follow the main character who tries to take back everyday life after his great loss. He drowns himself at work, and takes care of a grandchild. All in an attempt to deal with the grief. He reluctantly goes into therapy. We suspect something is going on with the main man, and that he really is hurting. He struggles. The film portrays this very well. It's slow and lingering, but this suits the film well. Eventually, his grief turns to hatred. This change in the plot leads to the film gaining more tempo, and gradually becoming exciting as well. Absolutely worth seeing, but it takes time to get into.

"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.