A White, White Day (Hvítur, Hvítur Dagur)

GoMovieReviews Rating: ★★★☆ (3.7/5)

Rated: M

Written and Directed by: Hlynur Pálmason

Produced by: Anton Máni Svansson

Music by: Edmund Finnis

Cinematography by: Maria von Hausswolff

Film Editing by: Julius Krebs Damsbo

Starring: Ingvar E. Sigurdsson, Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir, Hilmir Snær Guðnason.

WINNER

Best Actor, Cannes International Film Festival 2019 (Critics’ Week)

WINNER

Best Actor, 2019 Transilvania International Film Festival

Opening the Scandinavian Film Festival, A White, White Day (Hvítur, Hvítur Dagur) is a slow, bold and at times beautiful film.

And the outstanding performance from Ingvar E. Sigurdsson is the centre piece to the background of Icelandic scenery.

I was drawn into the landscape of this film, the interest of change while the centre remains the same: the boldness and cheek of a granddaughter, the roar of a monster – it’s a film about grief but shown in images and movement and stillness, showing the process of grief rather than the narrative.

Time is shown as an old farm house remaining static, while each frame shows wind, snow, wild horses, a full moon at night, to daylight and green grass, and eventually, former police chief and grandfather, Ingimundur (Ingvar E. Sigurdsson) arriving with granddaughter, Salka (Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir).

They wander around the old house, turning on taps, finding one of the horses in the kitchen.  Laughing together, the scene shows the relationship between grandfather and granddaughter, the natural companionship and exchange between them; the love.

Slowly, we realise that Ingimundur’s wife has died.  He’s a widow.  He used to be a cop.  We see a counsellor ask him not to be so hard on himself.  Not to self-criticise.

To ask: ‘What would be a perfect day?’

Instead of a verbal response, the film cuts to Ingimundur in a rowboat with his granddaughter after they’ve caught a fish.

The editing (Julius Krebs Damsbo) sets the tone of the film, the story shown through image and object to depict the way a retired police chief’s mind works, like Ingmiundur playing soccer in his purple boxes with the sea slowly rippling in the background.

He’s found out his wife was unfaithful.  He didn’t know while she was alive. Now, he has questions.

The sea churns.

The film’s a mysterious family drama that revolves around the quiet strength of this man, Ingimundur, who loses his grip as he investigates the infidelity of his beloved wife.  But instead of revenge, his quiet anger shows the depth of this love.

And the mystery of his love is set in the strangeness of fog and snow, as he tells scary tales to his granddaughter, while he quietly grieves.

I was absorbed into that quiet and open feeling like a strange day can create – that’s why the film’s title is, A White, White Day – where the sky and land are both white so they blend, allowing the dead to speak.