When The Love That Remains begins, we see a rooftop slowly get ripped off a lonely room on an Icelandic harbor. It dangles in the air precariously as the crane tries to find a place to put it. But amidst the suspense, we get a spellbinding image of a house with the roof hovering over it, like someone peeking into a dollhouse.

For a film about a family unit coping with its parents’ separation, this film felt like a fairy tale. It’s a shame I missed it in theaters, because the cinematography and direction make this an unforgettable experience. Amidst the narrative are a slew of images that make the ocean bluffs to the fishing boats fresh and new. The characters are deadpan and human, but seem to exist in a world that they themselves have created, for better and for worse. There’s also a reanimated knight full of arrows, a gigantic rooster that threatens the patriarch, and a miraculous band of seagulls that down a charter jet. It’s all great fun.

The couple at the center of The Love That Remains are Anna and Magnús, and they are both together and not. They were married, but now live separate lives, with Anna trying to find her path in the hard-to-reach art world and Magnús out at sea collecting fish with emotionally closed off men. The one thing that connects them are their three children, who love to tease each other and their mother to her wits end. There’s also Panda, a dog that acts as a lovely bridge between all involved. But no matter how much the deep love the family shares for each other, it’s clear that something has changed.

This film doesn’t dig too deep into the details, but we can guess. One of the most admirable things about this film is how it makes you feel like you’re already a member of the family. From the first minutes at the dining table, you’re picking up on small bits of social cues and language that immediately establish the dynamics. When the family goes on hikes in the countryside, you know what each character is thinking. Hlynur Pálmason knows the secret silent languages that families talk about each other to each other. It’s obvious and not obvious at the same time. You don’t know what’s happened, but you can already guess, and it’s heartbreaking and strangely comforting at the same time.

Beyond family dynamics, Pálmason also understands how glorious nature shots can work to bolster a story. Using 35mm and the beauty of the changing world, Pálmason establishes the family as gods of their own domain. They have a chicken farm in their backyard, where their own familial problems trickle into birds they have named and cared for. When they go on hikes, they are looking for a trail that will reach its end, a certainty they desperately need in their lives right now. When Anna is letting metal corrode for her art, she turns rot and decay into something beautiful. When Magnús is on the fishing boat, he is isolated, confined to desaturated rooms and single shots of him talking with his crew.

But the natural beauty of Iceland also leaves the family at nature’s mercy. When they talk to nature, it talks back to them. Every flaw they make in their own lives is answered by a distressed flock of birds, a wild band of horses, an unseemly gust of wind, and more disturbances that slowly upend their lives. There’s undertones of climate change too, as a glacier starts to melt away and leave exposed rock behind. Still, that can’t hold a candle to when truly unexpected things happen. Things that defy nature creep up on them while they sleep. Dreams blend into reality in awe-inspiring yet off-putting ways. It’s all so strange it winds back around to being beautiful. Much like the separation, the things that don’t make sense at first end up making sense by the end.

It’s needless to say that The Love That Remains took my breath away. I’ve been wanting to go to Iceland for a long time, and this might be my cue. Although I hope I don’t get on a charter plane any time soon.

FURTHER THOUGHTS

• Why is it that Scandinavian houses look so damn cool? I’m jealous.
• The deadpan humor in this is absolutely top tier.
• There’s a doctor in this that is either an alcoholic or not, but regardless, he’s one of the best characters.