Iceland
is only five hours by air from North America, but its closest neighbors are
Greenland and the Faroe Islands. Their most recent international Oscar suggests
the national temperament is as stone-faced and glacial as their geography. The
slow burn is about as slow and reserved as it gets in screenwriter-director
Hlynur Palmason’s A White, White Day, which opens virtually today in major
markets.
Palmason
does not do a lot of explaining, but it is clear Ingimundur still deeply mourns
his late wife, who died prematurely in an auto accident, caused by the damp and
misty climate. It appears the police chief has stepped down to some extent, but
he still regularly puts in time at the station. He also attends regularly
mandated counseling sessions, but his lack of enthusiasm is clearly evident. The
saving grace of his life is Salka, the granddaughter he adores (for whom he
shares day-to-day up-bringing responsibilities, due to yet another family
tragedy).
Then
one day he stumbles across evidence his beloved wife was having an affair. It
really bothers Ingimundur, because it confirms suspicions that he tried to ignore
at the time. As he grows increasingly preoccupied with her infidelity, the
senior policeman starts stalking her presumed lover and exhibiting markedly
more aggressive behavior.
White,
White has
been pitched as a thriller, but viewers will be forgiven if they just don’t see
it that way. Palmason’s meticulousness and austere discipline are impressive,
but also exhausting. There a lot of scenes focusing on people (often
Ingimundur) sitting in a parked car, quietly brooding—a whole lot.
Basically,
White, White lives by Palmason’s aesthetic and dies by Palmason’s
aesthetic. The performance of veteran Icelandic actor Ingvar Sigurdsson is
truly masterful, but there are limits to how far he can pull the audience
through such a frosty viewing experience. In a weird way, he is also undermined
by recent events, because one of his big eruptions comes during a
video-conference meeting. Instead of being shocked, a lot of viewers are likely
to think: “yeah, that was me during my 3:00.”
Still,
there is nothing cheap about the poignant chemistry Sigurdsson forges with Ida
Mekkin Hlynsdottir, playing young Salka. Thanks to their work, the central
grandfather-granddaughter relationship dynamic is complex, believable, and
deeply felt.
This
film is truly Nordic to a fault. The vibe and atmosphere are as chilly as the
windswept coastal landscapes. The market for a film like this is limited under
the best of circumstances, but especially so these days (you will find no
cinematic “comfort food” here). However, fans of Spartan auteurist filmmaking
will be transfixed. Recommended exclusively for that select, self-identifying
demo, A White, White Day opens virtually today (4/17), in conjunction
with select art-house theaters, including the SIE Film Center in Denver.
