Fjallid (The Mountain)
Click here if you liked this article 12 
https://scandinavianfilmfestival.com/films/sca25-the-mountain
Date Reviewed: 03/07/2025
It's tempting to class Fjallid (The Mountain in English) as a 'gentle' movie, but it carries some serious emotional grit. Astronomer María (Sólveig Guðmundsdóttir, Trapped) plans a family trip into the Icelandic wilderness to photograph a comet she has discovered. However, her teenage daughter Anna (Ísadóra Bjarkardóttir Barney) is playing a gig that weekend, while her electrician husband Atli (Björn Hlynur Haraldsson, Trapped, Wild Game) has to work overtime. Besides, as a former rock guitarist, he secretly wants to see the concert.
Her literally cosmic quest may have been usurped by the mundane, yet it seems to cause no great rift. María is stoic about going on her own, and her husband and daughter are genuinely apologetic. The love is there; it has simply drifted into the background. Director Ásthildur Kjartansdóttir deftly portrays this lack of connection in little touches. Atli makes María sandwiches for the trip and sets out flowers for her return, but while saying goodbye to a woman hoping to spot a celestial body, he is distracted by a speck of dirt on his car. María repeatedly loses reception when trying to call him. A shot of her on the mountain under a blanket of stars emphasizes how lonely and insignificant our lives can suddenly seem.
Yet even the smallest action, like changing weekend plans, can have colossal repercussions, as a tragic event shatters the lives of Atli and Anna. Thrown off course, the contrast between their new trajectories is adroitly handled. Anna now finds each decision, big or small (and she has both), as something to carefully weigh. Atli sees them as equally meaningless. Icelanders are not known for small talk, and the way father and daughter deal with a set of wince-inducing funeral conversations neatly demonstrates their growing divide.
While the plot mechanics are sometimes a little too convenient (would Anna really forget she was supposed to go on a family trip?), the characters are believable and the performances natural, sometimes painfully so. Haraldsson abandons his earlier charisma for a low-key wallow in guilt and regret, drinking heavily and lashing out. While this behavior is understandable, it makes Atli difficult to root for. By pushing away his best friend and grieving daughter, he comes perilously close to alienating the audience as well. It’s a bold move on Kjartansdóttir’s part, though he almost passes the point of no return. Almost.
The film is rescued from becoming mired in misery when Atli slowly begins to pull himself together. Never having shown any interest in María’s work (in one scene Anna chastises him for this and he meekly agrees), he decides to continue it. What the pragmatic electrician would once have deemed a pointless exercise becomes a Quixotic quest that steers him toward closure and a renewed connection with his daughter. Wisely, Kjartansdóttir doesn't effect an instant transformation, with easy bonding and a power ballad montage. The way up from rock bottom is a painful struggle, with inevitable lapses.
Every story is a journey. What makes it worth telling is how the obstacles are overcome. The mountain of the title is not just the family's physical destination; it is one we all climb. It represents the hurdles we face when momentous upheavals rend our lives, the battle to make something of ourselves, or simply the day-to-day grind of putting one foot in front of the other.
Kjartansdóttir and his cast imbue this wearying, hesitant path with a realism that isn't always easy to watch, and the pace is undeniably slow. The muted, no-frills style recalls the quietly poignant dramas of Scots director Bill Forsyth but lacks the relief of his trademark humor. The Mountain is a far more solemn affair and could honestly do with a little levity—even in their darkest hours, people still say funny things. Yet when Anna and Atli finally reach the summit together, it is all worth it. Having been with them every tearful, uncertain step of the way, we have earned a share in their joy.
Verdict: A slow-burning drama with quietly powerful performances and a resonant message about the long road to healing, The Mountain ultimately rewards the patience it asks for.