Touch (2024)

Original title: Snerting

A young couple, Kristofer and Miko, sit closely together on a vintage train. Krisofer, with his long blonde hair and a solemn expression, wraps his arm around Miko, who leans into him with a thoughtful gaze. Both are dressed in casual 1970s-style attire, suggesting a youthful romance. The train seats are upholstered in dark red fabric, and other passengers are visible in the background, creating a nostalgic and intimate atmosphere.

In the movie Touch, directed by Baltasar Kormákur, we follow the story of Kristófer, a man who has lost his wife, played by Egill Ólafsson. He sets out on a journey to reunite with his long-lost love, Miko, after more than five decades. The film unfolds against the backdrop of COVID-19 as Kristófer travels from Iceland to the United Kingdom and Japan, with glimpses of their past romance in 1969. This touching narrative not only delves into the complexities of love across different cultures but also explores themes of memory, loss and the passage of time.

Kormákur departs from his action-packed style to deliver this emotionally charged drama and collaborates on the script with Ólafur Jóhann Ólafsson, whose novel inspired the story. The film’s storytelling technique of switching between past and present builds tension effectively; however, some viewers might find these shifts confusing. While Kristófer’s emotional journey is deeply moving, the film falls short in addressing his dementia subplot, which is introduced but not explored further. This gap affects the authenticity of Kristófer’s character development and leaves you questioning its authenticity.

The performances in Touch are undoubtedly a highlight. Ólafsson delivers a performance as the elderly character Kristófer, portraying a blend of vulnerability and determination. Pálmi Kormákur embodies the Kristófer with an air of idealism, while Kôki brings depth to her role as Miko. Their on-screen chemistry is evident in the flashback scenes that showcase their initial bond formed over food and shared moments in a Japanese eatery. The film’s culinary aspects add a nice touch, reminiscent of other food-focused movies, though it falls short of reaching the calibre of classics like Babettes Feast.

Visually Touch is captivating thanks to its cinematography, which captures the allure of its various settings. The use of colour stands out, with tones invoking nostalgia in flashbacks and cooler hues reflecting the present sombre mood. Despite some abrupt time shifts, the editing ultimately heightens the emotional stakes surrounding Kristófer’s journey.

The film’s soundtrack beautifully complements its themes with a melodic score that enhances emotional moments without overshadowing the story. The dialogue flows naturally overall, though some instances may feel forced when trying to convey Kristófer’s emotions.

Despite its imperfections, Touch strikes a chord emotionally for those who enjoy tales of enduring love across time and distance. The movie’s examination of lost connections and the longing for reconnection will resonate with a broad audience, giving it a universal appeal. However, some viewers may feel unsatisfied by the elements of Kristófer’s backstory and the handling of his dementia.

In essence, Touch is a film that highlights Kormákurs’s skill as a director, although it doesn’t entirely avoid the challenges of its ambitious storyline. I would recommend it to those who appreciate touching dramas that delve into the complexities of love and memory. While not flawless, its emotional depth and strong acting performances make it a worthwhile viewing experience.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.