A WHITE, WHITE DAY
****
Director: Hlynur Pálmason
Screenwriter: Hlynur Pálmason
Principal cast:
Ingvar E. Sigurðsson
Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir
Hilmir Snær Guðnason
Björn Ingi Hilmarsson
Elma Stefanía Ágústsdóttir
Sara Dögg Ásgeirsdóttir
Country: Iceland/Denmark/Sweden
Classification: M
Rating: ***1/2
Runtime: 109 mins.
Australian release date: 9 July 2020.
“When everything is white,
and you can no longer see the difference between the earth and the sky,
the dead can talk to us who are still living.”
In a compelling opening scene in Hlynur Pálmason’s A White, White Day, a car, moving along a winding road through thick mist, suddenly disappears over the edge of a cliff. This shocking scene is accompanied by an off-kilter, eerie musical piece by young British composer Edmund Finnis, which creates a sense of unease and immediately captures the viewer’s imagination. We then see a montage of static images of a partially-built house situated at the base of a mountain range, filmed in different seasons, lights and times of day. This stark terrain evokes an atmosphere that is bleak and mysterious and instantly intriguing. Who was driving that car and what is the connection to this house?
Ingimundur (a blistering performance by Ingvar E. Sigurdsson) is a retired police chief, a gruff and taciturn man, and we soon learn that it was his wife who was killed in the car crash. He now spends a lot of time in the company of his young granddaughter, Salka (Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir), a talented, inquisitive girl who he obviously loves a great deal. His only other preoccupation is the house he is fixing up for his daughter, Salka’s mother. He reluctantly visits a grief counsellor (you get the impression that these visits are enforced for some reason) and occasionally drops in on his ex-colleagues at the police station, where he still acts as though he’s the boss. One day his daughter drops a box of his wife’s belongings and Ingimundur begins to suspect that she was having an affair with a local man. As his suspicions get a strangle-hold on his imagination, Ingimundur starts to spiral out of control, leading to a series of increasingly unhinged and erratic actions.
A White, White Day was acknowledged as the overwhelming Scandinavian success story of the 2019 Cannes Film Festival, being much anticipated after Pálmason’s multi-award-winning debut feature, Winter Brothers, a couple of years earlier. Sigurdsson’s performance is exceptional and, although playing a man of few words, his face expresses the depths of his anxiety as he begins to question how well he really knew his wife. His grief and anger are etched into the deep crevices on his cheeks and brow. Newcomer Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir is also endearingly watchable, magnificently portraying a young girl who brings solace to her grandfather, even while she finds his behaviour increasingly difficult to understand. Throw in Finnis’ unusual score, the stunning cinematography of Maria von Hausswolff (who also shot Winter Brothers) and the harshly beautiful Icelandic landscape and you easily see why Pálmason’s second film has met with such acclaim.
A White, White Day is a fascinating look at the dire and often dramatic effects of grief and loss. Pálmason states that, “Ingimundur lost someone he adored and loved and then something… some dark doubt started to make him question what they had together. When someone is in this kind of state, in a moment of weakness, you often find him in the most human state. That’s what I wanted to explore.” If you are looking for a powerful experience to launch you back into the world of big-screen cinema-going and forget the world outside, do not miss this movie.
Screenwriter: Hlynur Pálmason
Principal cast:
Ingvar E. Sigurðsson
Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir
Hilmir Snær Guðnason
Björn Ingi Hilmarsson
Elma Stefanía Ágústsdóttir
Sara Dögg Ásgeirsdóttir
Country: Iceland/Denmark/Sweden
Classification: M
Rating: ***1/2
Runtime: 109 mins.
Australian release date: 9 July 2020.
“When everything is white,
and you can no longer see the difference between the earth and the sky,
the dead can talk to us who are still living.”
In a compelling opening scene in Hlynur Pálmason’s A White, White Day, a car, moving along a winding road through thick mist, suddenly disappears over the edge of a cliff. This shocking scene is accompanied by an off-kilter, eerie musical piece by young British composer Edmund Finnis, which creates a sense of unease and immediately captures the viewer’s imagination. We then see a montage of static images of a partially-built house situated at the base of a mountain range, filmed in different seasons, lights and times of day. This stark terrain evokes an atmosphere that is bleak and mysterious and instantly intriguing. Who was driving that car and what is the connection to this house?
Ingimundur (a blistering performance by Ingvar E. Sigurdsson) is a retired police chief, a gruff and taciturn man, and we soon learn that it was his wife who was killed in the car crash. He now spends a lot of time in the company of his young granddaughter, Salka (Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir), a talented, inquisitive girl who he obviously loves a great deal. His only other preoccupation is the house he is fixing up for his daughter, Salka’s mother. He reluctantly visits a grief counsellor (you get the impression that these visits are enforced for some reason) and occasionally drops in on his ex-colleagues at the police station, where he still acts as though he’s the boss. One day his daughter drops a box of his wife’s belongings and Ingimundur begins to suspect that she was having an affair with a local man. As his suspicions get a strangle-hold on his imagination, Ingimundur starts to spiral out of control, leading to a series of increasingly unhinged and erratic actions.
A White, White Day was acknowledged as the overwhelming Scandinavian success story of the 2019 Cannes Film Festival, being much anticipated after Pálmason’s multi-award-winning debut feature, Winter Brothers, a couple of years earlier. Sigurdsson’s performance is exceptional and, although playing a man of few words, his face expresses the depths of his anxiety as he begins to question how well he really knew his wife. His grief and anger are etched into the deep crevices on his cheeks and brow. Newcomer Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir is also endearingly watchable, magnificently portraying a young girl who brings solace to her grandfather, even while she finds his behaviour increasingly difficult to understand. Throw in Finnis’ unusual score, the stunning cinematography of Maria von Hausswolff (who also shot Winter Brothers) and the harshly beautiful Icelandic landscape and you easily see why Pálmason’s second film has met with such acclaim.
A White, White Day is a fascinating look at the dire and often dramatic effects of grief and loss. Pálmason states that, “Ingimundur lost someone he adored and loved and then something… some dark doubt started to make him question what they had together. When someone is in this kind of state, in a moment of weakness, you often find him in the most human state. That’s what I wanted to explore.” If you are looking for a powerful experience to launch you back into the world of big-screen cinema-going and forget the world outside, do not miss this movie.