Joan of Arc
This minimalistic poem of a film is a beautiful and funny portrait of the passage of time, children’s games and the ever-changing Icelandic climate.
Hlynur Pálmason’s (Winter Brothers, R&A 2017; The Love That Remains, R&A 2025 & 2026) minimalistic film poem is a disarmingly beautiful and comical ode to Iceland’s unique nature and the power of imagination.
Two young boys are digging a hole on a hill on the shore. They set up a pole in the pit and drag a human-sized doll to it. They tie the doll up against the pole for wind, rain, hits, kisses and arrows to lash.
The coast of Iceland is grim and beautiful, the seasons unrelenting. The camera does not yield nor search, it simply witnesses the inevitable passing of time and the children’s roughening play.
At one point the doll is dressed in a knight’s armour. The boys’ older sister names the doll, originally addressed as male, Joan of Arc, for, “Women can be knights as well.”
The latest, atmospheric piece by Icelandic auteur Hlynur Pálmason is a study of time, and a kind of abstract side story to his family drama The Love That Remains, which had its premiere in Cannes and was Iceland’s submission for the 2026 Oscar for Best International Feature.
Joan of Arc combines realism and laconic humour. The end of the film is exhilarating in its absurdity.
Saija Holm (translated by Vilja Hynynen)
Screenings
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Maxim 2Sun 20.9. at 16.30–17.3161 min, 1/3
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Kinopalatsi 2Thu 24.9. at 21.15–22.1661 min, 2/3
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Kino TöölöSat 26.9. at 13.40–14.4161 min, 3/3