Hlynur Pálmason's follow up to the excellent 'A White, white day' is Part Bergman, part Dreyer, part Scorsese's Silence, part Icelandic landscape documentary, part The Piano, with the eerie tone of the lighthouse and the visuals of a Mark Jenkin film.

It follows a Danish priest (Elliott Crosset Hove) who is sent to Iceland to set up a church. The journey is extremely tough, and with the help of his guide (the excellent Ingvar Sigurdsson) they try and traverse the harsh Icelandic terrain. The film is presented on a vignette style almost 4:3 aspect ratio which gives it an otherworldly feel, especially when coupled with the beautiful sparse Icelandic vistas. The subplot is that the priest is a keen photographer eager to capture his experiences and those of the people he meets – which is director Pálmason’s idea for the inspiration behind the film. He creates a false narrative that photographs were found that were purportedly taken by the Priest.

The journey descends into chaos, details of which are best left unspoilt in a review, but it’s safe to say the film is one of the best of the year so far.

8.7/10

Like the space beneath the lines you're supposed to read between: there's nothing here but subcontext.

This is the 2h20 story of a Danish priest who travels to Iceland in the late 1800s to start a church for the expat farmers there.

I'd call it a slow burn but it'd have to have some burn for that.