Touch

Is there something worse than loving someone and losing them for five decades? Yes, there is. This film about two people who leave an irreversible touch on each other brought tears to my eyes.

An old-school weepie smothered in a syrupy string score, Touch is an unexpected offering from Icelandic action director Kormákur, who has made his name pitting humans against nature: the Himalayas in Everest, the sea in Adrift, a rogue lion in Beast.

This is a love story, pure and simple and unashamedly emotional. Kormákur also understands the visual appeal of romance: it’s not just about the pillow talk or heady declarations of passion, it’s about the images, and he doesn’t stint us in that regard.

Touch is a profoundly moving drama about love in many forms.

Even after the pall of historical tragedy thickens, “Touch” is still perfumed with much to admire for a love story, especially where Kormákur’s compassionate way with actors is concerned.

Its sensibility is as exquisitely tender as the flutter of a butterfly wing.

We become caught up in Kristófer’s efforts to find the woman who has remained lodged in his heart for the past 50 years while his adult life has played itself out.

Touch is an absorbing, touching and simply lovely drama. And one of the year’s best? Yeah, maybe.

One of the most beautiful films that you will see this year. Captures the emotions of love and loss in a way that very few films have been able to do over the years.

There's a real tenderness to Touch, a bittersweet quality that derives from an overriding feeling of nostalgia and that sense that memories can be both beautiful and painful, at the same time.