The London Film Festival (LFF) is running from October 9 - 20, and I will be among the plebs attending the regular screenings. The days of me going to press screenings and getting paid to attend festivals are behind me (for now?) but I won’t let that stop me from sharing my thoughts here. Immediate impressions will be on X if you’d like to give me a follow there.
When the Light Breaks - dir. Rúnar Rúnarsson
Plot in a Nutshell
Una struggles with grief while keeping a secret, unable to fully share her feelings. She faces the difficult events unfolding around her.
A loving, elegiac film poem about things unsaid that hang in the atmosphere like storm clouds that gradually darken before the torrential rain soaks everything in its path. It’s about a specific kind of elephant in the room that’s very rarely explored but is all too relatable, even if you’ve never actually been in Una’s situation before. It’s about a secret love during a time of grief.
When the Light Breaks has touches of Bergman and Kaurismäki for a compelling mix of dry humor and psychological heft, manages to make the Icelandic landscape feel like a warm blanket, and features a heart-stopping central requiem that’s used sparingly but to devastating effect.
This London Film Festival so far has been filled with glorious lead female performances, and Elín Hall joins those ranks. She is tremendous as Una. Seeing her resolute facade slowly chip away until it shatters, only to reassemble itself in a more fortified form, is, in many ways, the full experience of the film. That’s a lot to carry, and she does so beautifully.
There are more than a few standout scenes, but one that I won’t be soon forgetting is five kindred spirits huddled together in a group hug after dancing their grief demons away. The film in its compact 1h 22m running time is filled with poignant moments like that.
This one will linger.