The Love That Remains

Anna (Saga Garðarsdóttir) and Magnus (Sverrir Gudnason) are a recently separated couple. When Magnus goes off to work on a fishing boat, Anna takes care of their three children while working on her art projects. However, Magnus is struggling to come to terms with this change in his life and, against Anna’s better judgement, spends his time on shore hanging out with his family. Visual artist and filmmaker Hlynur Pálmason (Godland) sketches a portrait of this fractured family throughout the course of a year, blending offbeat comedy with surreal imagery to create an evocative meditation on male loneliness.

Tonally, The Love That Remains is close to Wes Anderson. Long static shots are accompanied by a jazzy piano score, the children have serious discussions about their parents’ relationships while shooting arrows at an armoured dummy they’ve tied to a pole, and deadpan gags come thick and fast. Light-hearted scenes of the family picking mushrooms are contrasted with more fantastical sequences like Magnus dreaming of a gigantic rooster or fantasising about becoming wrapped up in his ex-wife’s skirt. Pálmason finds so much joy in the smaller moments of life, but these often mask the pain the characters are going through.

Although the separation affects Magnus the most, the situation has a drastic impact on everyone. Anna becomes tired and frustrated with Magnus’s feeble attempts to reignite their relationship, while the kids are confused about what’s going on. Despite the friction between the couple, scenes of them comforting each other over a beer or working on one of Anna’s projects together show that there’s still affection there. This space between love and separation is where the script draws its tenderness from. Garðarsdóttir and Gudnason do a remarkable job of navigating these complex emotions on both the micro and macro levels, inviting viewers into their most intimate moments.

For as richly textured as this charming family drama is, the humour often overpowers its internal tragedy. The filmmaker’s quirky style is present even during the most hard-hitting moments, which subsequently diminishes their impact. Some sequences also tend to linger onscreen for too long.

While it has its faults, especially when it comes to balancing its humour, The Love That Remains is still a wonderfully imaginative and moving feature from Pálmason. It also features an adorable Border Collie named Panda, who steals every scene she’s in.