The longest days of our lives are the ones when our loved ones depart. On a warm summer day in Reykjavík a tragedy occurs that not only shatters Una’s life but also shines a light on things kept unsaid. An affair the art student and musician has had with Diddi, a member of a rock band, and hiding their relationship from the whole world, including his girlfriend Klara, little by little comes to light. Anger, denial, memory flashbacks, acceptance, and farewell – Una goes through this cycle of grief, and so does Klara. The unbearable realisation that Diddi,  so loved by all, had his life end before it could begin, is comforted by the strong, unbreakable support of the band. Perhaps it all is destined to dawn over a clear horizon?

Originally created as a short film, Rúnarsson’s emotionally charged and incredibly impactful coming-of-age drama about the inner states of being in times of loss was the opener of Un Certain Regard competition at Cannes (this section also included Flow by Gints Zilbalodis (2024)). It centres around the young generation of Iceland who wear their heart on their sleeve – they love, create, make music to the vibes of Smells Like Teen Spirit, and enjoy life without worrying too much about tomorrow. However, translating the language of loss is a task the Icelandic director approaches by drawing on his personal experiences of losing loved ones and grounding these emotions in incisive metaphors, relatable for practically every viewer. Without trivialising the grief of the two women and the “other woman” trope, the film is crafted from Una’s perspective – the acting by Icelandic actress Elín Hall is the film’s “music box,” which, accompanied by a score by Jóhann Jóhannsson, brings promises of strength with plenty of heart.