“Touch” (“Snerting”) (2024). Cast:. Egill Ólafsson, Kōki, Pálmi Kormákur, Masahiro Motoki, Yoko Narahashi, Ruth Sheen, Masatoshi Nakamura, Meg Kubota, Tatsuya Tagawa, Charles Nishikawa, Sigurour Ingvarsson, Starkaour Pétursson, Akshay Khanna, Kieran Buckeridge, Benedikt Ellingsen, Maria Ellingsen, Eiji Mihara, Eugene Nomura, Harpa Elísa Ϸórsdóttir (voice). Director: Baltasar Kormákur. Screenplay: Baltasar Kormákur and Ólafur Jóhann Ólafsson. Book: Ólafur Jóhann Ólafsson, Touch (2022). Web site. Trailer.

No matter how well life may treat us, almost everyone undergoes a memorable, fulfilling experience that, unfortunately, doesn’t last as long as we thought (or hoped) it would. These scenarios – usually romantic in nature – leave such profound, enduring impressions on us that we can’t shake them when they end, often abruptly and somewhat unceremoniously. We tend to look back upon them fondly, but we also can’t help but feel saddled with a certain measure of ennui that they didn’t last. They thus invariably form the basis of classic “what might have been” experiences, situations characterized by a mix of both pleasant and sad feelings. We long for them so much that we might be tempted to try and get them back, but such pursuits are nearly always frustrating, fruitless and heartbreaking. But need they always be that way? That’s a question examined in the new Icelandic romantic mystery, “Touch” (“Snerting”).

Life is beginning to close in on 75-year-old Kristófer Hannesson (Egill Ólafsson). The Icelandic restaurateur has begun experiencing health issues that have been slowly wearing on him, both physically and cognitively. And, as much as he’d rather not acknowledge it, he sees the handwriting on the wall, sensing that his time could be running out sooner than he’d like. His physician, Dr. Stéfansson (Benedikt Ellingsen), would seem to confirm this, too, advising Kristófer that now may be the time to consider wrapping up unfinished business while he still has the chance and the capability to do so. It’s earnest but frank advice that comes as a wake-up call. But Kristófer also takes the guidance seriously and decides to avail himself of the opportunity to get his affairs in order.

For many, an undertaking like this usually concerns financial and legal matters that have loose ends to tie up. But, for Kristófer, the situation is a little different. His unfinished business is of an emotional nature, and he longs to address it before he’s no longer able to. In addition to his health issues, he’s also facing mounting pressure from outside considerations, namely, the emergence of the COVID pandemic. It’s March 2020, and concerns about the spread of the illness are rapidly ramping up, changing almost daily and leaving everyone with questions about quarantines, travel restrictions and an uncertain new normal. If these measures were to be implemented, they could seriously hamper his efforts at wrapping up those matters that weigh so heavily on him.

So what exactly is troubling him? As noted above, the issues are emotional in nature – specifically tracking down the love of his life, someone he had met and fallen for passionately 51 years earlier. And now, given that his wife, Inga (Maria Ellingsen), has passed on and his daughter, Sonja (Harpa Elísa Ϸórsdóttir), is all grown up, there’s nothing holding him back from pursuing his lost love. But taking on this challenge requires travel, a venture filled with uncertainties at this time. Nevertheless, Kristófer is determined not to let this stop him. He ceases operations at his restaurant, sets aside the concerns of his daughter and his doctor, and throws caution to the wind, heading off to London where everything began.

Through a series of flashbacks, viewers witness the life of 24-year-old Kristófer (Pálmi Kormákur) when he’s enrolled as a student at the London School of Economics. However, despite his academic prowess, as a progressive social and political thinker, he’s disillusioned by the conservative conventional atmosphere of such an established, inflexible institution. He spontaneously decides to quit school and impulsively takes a job at a Japanese restaurant as a dishwasher. His friends view his decision as quite a comedown from what he had been doing, but it readily suits Kristófer’s changed temperament. Even more fortuitously, though, it presents him with an opportunity for something far more meaningful and heartfelt.

While working at the restaurant, Kristófer meets Miko (Kōki), a beautiful, young, free-spirited server whose father, Takahashi-san (Masahiro Motoki), owns the establishment. Miko and her dad opened the eatery when they emigrated to England from Japan 12 years earlier to start a new life, but they’re somewhat hesitant to discuss their specific reasons for leaving the homeland behind. Nevertheless, both father and daughter quickly take a liking to the young Icelander. As an employee, Kristófer becomes a favorite of Takahashi-san, who quickly gives him more to do than wash dishes, marking Kristófer’s emerging interest in the restaurant business. Meanwhile, Miko is quite smitten with her new co-worker (and vice versa), leading to a passionate romance between them.

All seems to be going well between the young lovers until one evening, when Kristófer has a perplexing encounter with Miko. She comes across as uncharacteristically distant, evasive and cryptic, and she offers no explanation for her behavior, even when Kristófer attempts to get her to open up. But what comes the following morning is even more startling: Takahashi-san has sold the restaurant and moved back to Japan with Miko in tow. Needless to say, Kristófer is mystified – and understandably devastated.

Such are the events that prompted latter-day Kristófer to begin his search for what happened to Miko. The events of his effort to track her down are intercut with the aforementioned flashbacks, weaving the two story threads together to show how this mystery emerged and unfolded. And now, amidst Kristófer’s failing health considerations and the implementation of the ubiquitous new COVID restrictions, he forges ahead to unravel the mystery of Miko’s sudden disappearance. To say more here would reveal too much about the story, but, suffice it to say that viewers are presented with an intriguing and captivating tale that leads Kristófer from Iceland to London and then to Japan.

Will the lovelorn senior succeed in his quest? Or will he be derailed by the multiple challenges posed to him? Will the outcome live up to his expectations? Or will he come away from this venture more disappointed than ever? And will he solve the mystery that has gnawed away at him for more than five decades? One thing is for certain: As the film’s title implies, this is a story that will truly touch those who see it. The question is, of course, in what way?

Based on the lengths to which he’s willing to go, Kristófer quite clearly believes in the possibility of being able to find Miko, despite the many years that have passed and the physical distance between them. Some might think he’s wallowing in naïve, wishful thinking and that a belief is precious little on which to hang his hopes of success. However, as some of us are well aware, beliefs are powerful tools that can aid us significantly in realizing our dreams, thanks to the conscious creation process, the philosophy that makes such outcomes attainable. It’s not clear how many of us are aware of this school of thought or the veracity of its principles, but some, like Kristófer, truly are, even if only subconsciously. Indeed, they’re among those who have come to believe that it’s possible to transform “what might have been” into “what actually could be.”

So what does Kristófer know that makes him so optimistic about his chances of success? To begin with, on some level, he understands the power and persistence of beliefs. And, given how long and how strongly he has held on to his beliefs about what might have developed between him and Miko, it’s apparent that he’s not ready to give up on the idea, even after all these years. In fact, considering the declining state of his health, he has an added incentive to undertake the pursuit of this goal while he still has the chance. The quarantine restrictions coming into place provide additional motivation, given that his window of opportunity could be getting ready to close. This thus tells him that it’s now or never.

This venture is further prompted by his faith in the notion that he can find his lost beloved. Faith is itself another form of belief, and quite a potent one at that. In many regards it provides the fuel for any belief-based undertaking, giving it the juice needed to succeed. Again, considering the conditions under which Kristófer is taking on this task, he understands that now is the time to tap into his reserves of this resource. And, fortunately for him, he’s well armed as he goes about this quest.

As his search unfolds, Kristófer keeps himself motivated by successfully drawing to him people and circumstances that continually reinforce his faith, determination and resolve. For example, when in London, Kristófer locates another former co-worker, Hitomi (Meg Kubota), who has information about how he might find Miko in Japan. It’s a valuable lead that keeps him enthused and on track, coming just at a time when he needs it most.

Similarly, when Kristófer arrives in Japan, he begins wondering if he’s in over his head, despite the progress he’s made. He also realizes he’s missed his daughter’s birthday, without even sending her a greeting to mark the occasion. It makes him wonder if his memory is truly getting worse. It also prompts him to question whether he’s being unduly selfish about the journey he’s on; how could a supposedly loving and devoted father put his own needs ahead of something as important as his own child’s birthday – so much so that he forgot all about it? Consequently, he quietly wonders whether he should continue this Quixotic odyssey. But, just as these doubt-riddled, discouraging thoughts begin crossing his mind, he befriends Kutaragi-san (Masatoshi Nakamura), a kindly soul whom he meets while dining out one evening. The two gentlemen quickly become fast friends, especially when Kutaragi-san helps bolster Kristófer’s spirits, convincing him that pursuing personal goals can be just as important to oneself as living up to obligations to others. It’s another development that helps keep Kristófer going.

These occurrences, seemingly small though they might be, are proof that Kristófer is indeed on the right track. These synchronicities – fortuitously timed and seemingly tailor-made coincidences – turn up just when he needs them, reinforcing his faith, strengthening his beliefs and even pointing him in the direction of the next valuable clue. Suddenly, Kristófer’s supposedly wishful thinking might have some actual merit.

As time passes, thoughts of “what might have been” begin to transform into “what could – or even will – be.” That’s comforting, not only to Kristófer, but also to anyone who has ever held a cherished, long-unfulfilled dream. That’s especially true where romance is concerned, an area of life often driven by powerful emotional feelings that don’t readily dissipate, even over time. Many of us have no doubt had experiences with “the one who got away,” would-be loves who had such strong connections to us that we can’t help but wonder what life with them might have been like. In scenarios like that, it’s rare that we get a second bite at the apple, but, when we do, we can’t resist the chance to find out if the old magic still exists. Kristófer is fortunate to have been presented with just such an opportunity, and he jumps at it. We should all wish him well, not just for his sake, but also for those of us who never had a shot at such a second chance.

Romance is one of those subjects that can be easy to get wrong on screen. Filmmakers can easily fall prey to cliché, predictability and heavy-duty schmaltz. However, in telling this tale of love, mystery and intrigue, writer-director Baltasar Kormákur succeeds commendably for the most part, presenting a colorful mix of genuinely original characters in an array of circumstances that have not been depicted on the big screen before. Admittedly, the pacing could stand to be stepped up in a few places (an outcome that could have been accomplished with some judicious editing), and further enhancement of the back story and better character development might have provided more meaningful depth to the overall narrative. However, given the captivating trail of breadcrumbs that the filmmaker doles out for viewers, this heartfelt release leaves audience members continually wondering what’s coming next. And, in doing so, the picture serves up a number of little-known, eye-opening cultural revelations that add spice and diversity to a genre that seldom ventures into such unfamiliar territory, an objective carried out with a sincere sense of warmth without becoming unduly sentimental. In my view, this is the picture that the vastly overrated “Past Lives” (2023) was trying to be (and could have been), one that entertains, enlightens and educates all at the same time while providing audiences with a tale that’s sure to tug at the heartstrings. The film is currently playing theatrically.

The cynics of the world frequently maintain that happy endings only happen in the movies, that it’s unrealistic to hold out hope for such improbable outcomes. And sometimes they’re right. But, then again, sometimes they’re not, even when it comes to second chances. It’s truly uplifting to witness hoped-for scenarios that manage to work out in the end, particularly when matters of the heart are involved. Such circumstances provide us all with a great sense of encouragement, that there’s indeed hope for us all, no matter how unlikely the possibility or how late in the game it may be. And what a tremendous feeling that can be.

Copyright © 2024, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.