Hlynur Pálmason, director and cinematographer, for "The Love That Remains"

Tenderly captures a year in the life of a family as the parents navigate their separation. Through both playful and heartfelt moments, the film portrays the bittersweet essence of faded love and shared memories amidst the changing seasons.

Is this your most personal film ?

Hlynur Pálmason : Probably every filmmaker will tell you that each of their films is personal... But it’s true that 
this one is closest to my life. My children play the parts, the mother character ’s works of art are my own creations, and the landscapes are those I see every day. On the other hand, the story of the parents’ separation has nothing to do with me. I think it should be interpreted more as a kind of fear... So it’s a personal work, but in no way intimate or private !

The opening shot is quite extraordinary...

HP : The large empty workshop, filmed from the inside with the roof being torn off by construction equipment, is also something very personal ! It takes me back to 2017, when the municipality decided to expropriate the studio where I create my artwork. Despite my attempts and appeals to keep it, I was faced with this decision, which was going to be carried out. In a bit of a panic, I went to get my own camera (the one used to shoot the film), set it up before the crane tore off the roof... and filmed that special moment. 
You have to understand that my initial idea wasn’t necessarily to capture a beautiful image... Because that moment was truly terrible for me... At the time, I just wanted to document things. A kind of testimony. Then the negatives were developed in Sweden, and I received digital daylies. When I discovered this – a total silent shot, of course – I realised suddenly the power and beauty. I immediately thought it would make a great movie opening. Something very mysterious, which invites you to explore and dream. And as you know, I love mysterious things ! In a way, it was this shot that gave birth to the project. Of course, it was the first one I shot for this film, which took all these years to make.

Is time central to your work ?

HP : I don’t like to force a film to come out. Or a story... What I like is for the script to emerge on its own, to slowly take shape in my head, without me necessarily thinking about it every day. So, for me, the ideal is to have my own camera and be completely independent in the production process. Just as I am independent in my work as a contemporary artist. It turns out that at the end of each film, we are left with a lot of 35mm short ends . So instead of throwing them away, I keep them carefully and use them to film whatever inspires me. As I mentioned with the opening shot, I collect these little shots, picked here and there, which gradually help me to write a particular scene. And by the time we actually start production with the actors, I’ve already been building ideas with my Arricam for a year or two, generating these little bits of footage that help me to imagine my film .

That’s also why I shot The Love That Remains myself. As the production spread out over such a long period of time, I would have need my usual director of photography (Maria Von Hausswolf) to come and live near me for several years ! For example, the shot of the mannequin - Chevalier in the film - took two years to film sequentially. The camera was set up in a small house built for it. How else can you do it in this kind of situation ? Of course you learn to measure the light, load the magazines yourself... But it’s more of a documentary approach... capturing nature rather than complete cinematography. In the sense of camera movements, for example, as you often find in cinema.

And does the choice of analog filmaking contribute to this surprise ?

HP : As I mentioned earlier, I love mystery. I like not understanding everything, and that’s exactly how life is ! That’s why when I’m shooting a film, I don’t like to see the results right away. I’m not interested in video screens. I prefer to look through the camera’s viewfinder. It’s my way of focusing on something specific. The act of leaning in and putting your eye to the camera... not just looking at a screen means a lot to me. And then there’s also the time element. Time passes so quickly... and I really don’t want to film everything, multiply the shots and takes. The prospect of being equipped with a digital camera that I would be shooting all the time exhausts me. Simply the thought of having to watch such an amount of footage... It would be simply impossible for me. So film really has a very practical function in my creative process.

Do you ever find yourself being struck by the sheer beauty of the landscapes on your island ?

HP : I like settings that are a bit in between... Iceland is a very large country... and of course a lot of commercials are shot near where I live. But it’s always in the most famous, most spectacular places and rarely in these in-between settings. Yet these landscapes are just as powerful and just as evocative. The Love That Remains was therefore shot in these familiar places, where my family and I go for walks almost every year. And again, it’s with time, going back again and again to pick mushrooms or blueberries, those ideas or scenes come to my mind.

At the end of the film, there is a night-time interior scene, which is more close to "complete cinematography" staging. How did you approach the lighting in this case ? It’s a bit away from capturing nature, isn’t it ?

HP : On this film, I didn’t want to cheat with the camera at all... for example, no camera movements that would add dramatic tension... everything is shot on a tripod, without a dolly, without a crane... or anything else. The camera is on its head, either fixed or with a simple pan. 
This simplifies the narrative, but it can also be a real headache during filming. 
When you embark on a long scene with dialogue, a kind of choreography with the actors, and you’re only filming from one angle on branches, you can’t hide anything. There’s no room for error, because you’re capturing the raw truth. That’s why the film was shot almost entirely in natural light, whether it was sunlight or practicals in the frame. Like the night sequence you mentioned, in the house... I actually thought of it as a very dark one. For me, this kiss had to remain a little uncertain... again, not showing everything... suggesting.

Did you have any images in mind, any references ?

HP : I like to create my own world with each film, and this one is no exception...
The big difference with the previous film is that we’re in a contemporary story. But I don’t like to determine precisely when a particular scene takes place. In my mind, it’s a bit as if everything were happening tomorrow. It’s now... but it’s also tomorrow ! And I think that this kind of concept followed us throughout the film. And as the inspirations, it came from very different things. For example, what happens around the chicken coop was inspired by a Scandinavian TV series for young children featuring a bear and a chicken who live in a little cabin in the woods. The bear is always depressed. And the chicken, who is much more dynamic and positive, regularly cheers him up ! And when my children discovered the little chicken coop we had built for the film, they immediately told me that they felt like they were in the series !

Is this your first comedy ? There’s quite a lot of laughter in the arrow scene...

HP : Actually, I always find something funny in my films... Even though some critics have described Godland as being drench with darkness, I still see some funny aspects in it... But you’re right, The Love That Remains is definitely my first comedy. In any case, it’s a film about the serious theme of separation, but at the same time it’s joyful and playful. It’s a film about life, where the seasons set the tone of the narrative, alternating between the dark cold of winter and the hope and warmth of summer. For me, it’s also an opportunity to show the reality of a couple. That you can love someone deeply and yet hate her or him in the next second. That’s the heart of this film, the warmth and the cold, but without falling into something cynical or a joke. It’s a very serious film for
me, with a raw, simple and often cheerful energy. Certainly very different from what I experienced on Godland.

What is a good film for you ?

HP : Actually, I realise that I know exactly what I don’t like. And believe me, there are a lot of things in that category ! Perhaps my only real quality as a filmmaker is knowing how to recognise it... Simply what bores me, what I hate in cinema, and not imposing it on my audience.
It’s a simple matter of respect, really ! And if I’m not surprised during the film-making process, if the shot don’t catch me off guard, I don’t think the audience will be surprised either. It all depends on creating this kind of sensitive space where everyone can form their own opinion without being narratively force fed. A film from which everyone can construct their own dream, in the space in between.

(Interview conducted by François Reumont for the AFC)