Overview
When Touch played Australia's Scandinavian Film Festival, which fittingly fills cinemas around the country each winter, it wasn't the only feature from Iceland on the program. Of the four titles from the Nordic nation, however, two of the fellow movies around this tender romantic drama fell into the thriller category. Scandi noir has become its own genre, buoyed by the success of efforts across the Nordic region such as The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and its sequels, and the likes of The Killing and The Bridge on TV. Icelandic television series Trapped also sits in the same camp, as created by one of its most-famous filmmaking names: director Baltasar Kormákur.
Kormákur knows how to lean into the genre that the rest of the planet now considers synonymous with his part of the globe. He's also well-aware that there's far more to Iceland's screen output than its moodiest efforts, and how important it is to ensure that other tales are being told. An actor before moving behind the lens — and sometimes afterwards, including for himself — he's just as familiar with a recent trend among features from his homeland: movies with animal-themed titles (see: Of Horses and Men, Rams and Lamb). In comparison, Touch takes its own path, eschewing both noir and critters. That said, character-driven films are hardly new to the country; Kormákur has been there before himself, in fact, starting with his 2000 directorial debut 101 Reykjavík.
Consider Touch a reminder, then, that crime-thrillers, the frosty landscape and the animals that live upon it are only a part of Iceland's storytelling. Hopping between Iceland, the UK and Japan, as well as between time periods, Kormákur's latest feature found its details on the page via the filmmaker's compatriot Ólafur Jóhann Ólafsson, who co-wrote the script — and its narrative spreads far beyond what's become regarded of late as typical Icelandic fare. It all kicks off in Reykjavík, where widower Kristófer (Egill Ólafsson, another Trapped alum) does indeed have a mystery to solve: the whereabouts of the woman he loved five decades earlier. In the late 60s, he was a student (played by the director's son Pálmi Kormákur, The Deep) in London who took a job in a Japanese restaurant, with a romance with his boss Takahashi-san's (Masahiro Motoki, Giri/Haji) daughter Miko (Kōki Kimura, Ushikubi Village) blossoming.
Touch begins in 2020, just as the COVID-19 pandemic was shutting down existence as everyone knew it. Before he flies out to the UK, it also commences with Kristófer receiving an early-stage dementia diagnosis. As the film flits back and forth between the elder version of the character on his search for the Hiroshima-born Miko and his memories of their time together, it contemplates paths not taken, connections that will never fade, choices that haunt and emotions that last forever. It plunges, too, into one of the 20th century's horrors and its lingering ramifications.
Kormákur also sees Touch as a picture about seeking closure, and knows how universal that idea is — and how cathartic Kristófer's journey is to watch. He feels that link personally. "As the years come in, it becomes a heavier burden," he tells Concrete Playground. "There are things — you did something wrong to somebody, or weren't fair or left a love relationship in the way you shouldn't, whatever it is — there's the need to rectify and close. Not to necessarily pick up. I don't think Kristófer is there to pick up and run around with a newfound love, no. It's about finding closure and understanding. I have very strong ties to that. That has come very a heavy burden in my life, which I didn't think much about when I was in my 20s and 30s."
We also chatted with the filmmaker about discovering Ólafsson's book and being inspired to turn it into a film, celebrating a different kind of Icelandic movie than the kind worldwide audiences are often seeing of late, juggling Touch's different locations and eras, and casting when you're telling a story across half a century.
On Kormákur Coming Across the Novel and Knowing That He Wanted to Turn It Into a Film
"It was given to me by my daughter as a present for Christmas. And I opened it right away and started reading, and I couldn't put it down. I think I read it in less than 24 hours.
First, it took its time in the beginning, and then it just got me more and more and more. And there's something about the way that it reflects time and life through the two story threads.
I also wanted to find a love story, but a real one to me, something that would mirror my experience in some way with love, because I've had a relationship with love for now 58 years. It was just a great vessel for that in the movie.
It's also very unusual for Icelandic films to have these kind of cross-cultural references, and an opportunity of travelling through space and time."
On Making an Icelandic Film Away From the Country's Frosty Landscape and the Nordic Noir Genre
"I think it's very important. I think it's actually more important, possibly, than people realise in the moment. I think always when you break a little bit of boundaries in telling stories, it gives the young people who are coming after you a different perspective and opens up to them — 'yeah, well if that's an Icelandic film, then I can maybe do something of that kind or something different'.
I think with small countries, often there is a tendency that there are certain kinds of films that are accepted and tend to be repeated. We've done a lot of films about domestic animals in Iceland. I think every title — we have Lamb, we have Rams, we have Of Horses and Men. It's all good, very good films, don't get me wrong, but at some point we're running out of domestic animal titles. So it was about time for something else.
But also I come from a background of two nations. I'm half Spanish and half Icelandic. My parents actually met pretty much like Miko and Kristófer in the story — in a restaurant in Reykjavík as my father was passing through.
He was a Spanish artist escaping Franco at the time, and he ran into my mother and he just stood up in the restaurant. He was coming in, she was working in the restaurant, and 18 days later they were to be married — and 60 years later they're still together. Unfortunately he has a bit of Alzheimer's, like the character.
So there's a lot of things that connected me to the story on many levels. Also the need for closure, which is very important to me, and I feel like is coming harder and harder down on me — like the need to close certain chapters and stories and make peace with them."
On Balancing Multiple Different Time Periods — and Hopping Between Iceland, the UK and Japan
"It was very, very complicated in terms of shooting. People thought Everest was complicated, but this is actually more complicated because there's also three languages.
But I love it. We are allowing more languages and more culture into films, and it's getting more accepted, and I think it's really important. And for me, it has to be in the language that these people would authentically be speaking to each other.
Then the market comes next and says 'I'm not going to...' because there was this idea, somebody came and said 'what about if Kristófer is in England rather than Icelandic and we can just have him...'. And yeah, it would work, but that's not my story. So, that's very important.
And of course, it's incredibly complicated to create a restaurant. A Japanese restaurant in England 1969, there are hardly any references. But by digging, we found actually a couple still alive that ran a restaurant — a Japanese couple, immigrants in England — that gave us a lot of information about their place.
So, for me it was so much about all the preparation and work. We had Japanese people working with us from day one, everyone possible in Iceland in the Japanese embassy.
And the respect — when you come from a small culture like Iceland, your country and your culture has been tarnished by Hollywood, just because they don't care. It's a small market. So the names are usually wrongly used, and there is not much authenticity to the story.
But I think that's lazy. Because you can tell this is a good story, and even better, you can just little do a little homework and digging and learning about cultures.
Also, I love the fact, and I didn't say that in the beginning, that this story leads you to one of the most horrific acts in history, war crimes in history, in such a different and unique way. It's just to one victim that wasn't even born at the time of the bombing, and it affects a life of an Icelandic guy whose whole life is affected by this.
So this choice of taking just a single view, when I read the book, I didn't see that coming — an Icelandic novel dealing with the aftermath of Hiroshima."
On Casting When You're Working with Both Younger and Older Versions of the Same Characters
"For me, it's more about finding the right person for its purpose. I wasn't necessarily chasing that it had to be totally aligned for Kristofer — for me, it's more important that the actors are right for the role and for their purpose, and then matching them up.
It was very important for the younger actors that they would sit on the baseline in the role. They don't have to be playing someone else. They'll allow you to come closer, because falling in love is an intimate thing. And I wasn't going for the sexual version, I was going for the sensual version of it. And for me, it's very innocent and you have to allow the camera into the act rather than him playing it for you. And I think I chose the two of them from that perspective, the young cast.
On the other hand, it was very important to me — I told you about my father — Egill reminds me a little bit of my father. A very nicely dressed man, even in his Alzheimer's and the fog of that, he always carries himself with some grace.
Egill used to be the sex symbol of Iceland. He used to be this big singer and actor. All my youth, everyone knew who Egill was. Then, he now actually has Parkinson's, and it's just changed his whole demeanour. He's very gentle and he steps to the earth very carefully.
I learned this about him, and I thought he was absolutely perfect for the role. It's just something about the grace and I wanted him to be romantic in a way, but not somebody you would feel sorry for — actually, you can go on this journey and you can want him to have his closure."
On the Approach to Flitting Across Genres When Your Career Jumps Between Romance, Action, Thrillers, Survivalist Tales and More
"I do not look at genre in the beginning of choosing a project. If something, like with Beast, I've been fascinated with lions all my life since I was a kid. I loved pictures of lions when I was a kid. When I got Everest, it was like 'this is like me walking to school in Iceland every day'.
There are certain things that you just are drawn to, and then the genre comes around it. And then everyone, people are like 'oh, he's the action guy, he's the survival guy'. I've had so many versions of 'guy'. But for me, I just choose the project that I'm drawn to and genre is something that it comes after, and I work with that.
I understand that genre or tone is very important. But I have many genres inside of me. I am an athlete in some ways, when I was younger. But I'm also a lover. These are two genres inside of me.
So I'm full of genres, and I just don't want to limit myself to one thing. It's not conscious, to be honest. It's just when projects — like when I read this book, I love this book. I want to do it and then I do it. And then I let the specialists analyse it."
Touch opened in Australian cinemas on Thursday, August 22, 2024.
Images: Lilja Jonsdottir and Baltasar Breki Samper / © 2024 FOCUS FEATURES LLC.