Lára (Kristín Þóra Haraldsdóttir) is a single mother living in Iceland with her young son, Eldar (Patrik Nökkvi Pétursson). She doesn’t make much money, and even when she seeks work as a border control officer, it isn’t sufficient to support their lives. As a result, they are forced to leave their home and take refuge in their car. Also in the same small town is Adja (Babetida Sadjo), a refugee from Guinea-Bissau who is trying to make her way to Canada to help make a life for her and her daughter, who is already there. She is illegally attempting to cross the border, and when she is caught, she is prevented from leaving and faces deportation back to her destitute home country. The lives of the two women intersect in various ways, mainly through Lára being the one that discovers that Adja was entering through the country illegally. The two find themselves crossing paths again a while later, and while initially, the animosity is clear, it becomes evident that they entered each other’s lives for a reason, with their friendship being one built on the need to survive, rather than on any shared interest – both Lára and Adja need each other in order to overcome the challenges that they are faced with.

Social realism has always had a place in cinema and has often been the facilitator of some heartbreaking masterpieces. From the Italian Neo-Realism movement that brought us masterpieces such as The Bicycle Thief, to the British kitchen-sink realism of Alan Clarke and Ken Loach, to the more contemporary European arthouse works of the Dardennes, and the beautifully minimalistic Americana of Kelly Reichardt, cinema has always been able to tell the truth through extraordinarily beautiful means. And Breathe Normally (Icelandic: Andið eðlilega) is certainly one such film, a heartbreaking portrait of two women finding themselves destitute and without any hope, crossing paths and discovering that life is not a battle that should always be fought alone, and that sometimes salvation can be found in the most unexpected places. Ísold Uggadóttir has made something quite brilliant with And Breathe Normally, a film that is so heartbreaking, yet so firmly in control of its ability to tell a story that truly moves the viewer. It is often very difficult to tackle contemporary issues in a way that remains interesting, but it would appear that through a simple but touching story, and a pair of beautiful and evocative performances, this film may have just found a way to tell a story about contemporary strife without being heavy-handed, and possibly aiding in inciting meaningful change, even if it is just through stirring thought.

And Breathe Normally is a film that resonates louder than most recent films, and this is for two reasons. The first is that this film tells a story that portrays current events in a way that mainstream cinema tends to avoid. The migrant crisis in Europe is not one that is overtly rejected (with directors such as Michael Haneke and Aki Kaurismäki touching on it in some of their recent films), but also not one that makes for the most pleasant viewing, and thus is often not sought out as desirable narrative material. Yet, as films throughout history have shown, avoiding the important issues of the day can sometimes be misguided, because cinema, as entertaining and diverting is can be, is also a medium that can spread messages further than most. And Breathe Normally is a film that certainly does understand this, and in telling this story, it manages to evoke some change, however small it may be. It also never proposes to be the definitive story of the migrant crisis, nor does it solely focus on it – rather, it shows the life of one woman, being forced to put herself in danger in order to make a life for herself and her family, navigating the world with whatever resources she can find, and through telling the story of Adja, the plight of the refugees can start to be seen. One story isn’t indicative of the entirety of the situation, but it certainly does shed light on an issue that is far more complex than it would appear.

The second resonant aspect of And Breathe Normally is how it extends further than just being a film about a migrant moving from a destitute country to one where she will hopefully prosper for her own good and for the good of her loved ones. It focuses on the life of two women, one from outside Iceland, and one from inside, two completely different worlds, yet thrust together in order to portray the suffering many go through, but also the resilience of the human spirit. One of the protagonists of And Breathe Normally is a woman who tries her best to provide and to make a life for herself and her son. Yet, through her own past mistakes and the weaknesses of character that often threaten to define us, combined with poor luck, she finds herself on the street. She loses nearly everything but retains her dignity and her tenacity to overcome the situation. And Breathe Normally is a film about struggling, yet it never ventures into the realm of dire misery – and while the characters may suffer, this film tells of the power of realizing that any situation, regardless of how difficult it may be, can be overcome through determination. It is a powerful reminder that the only way we lose is through giving up – and as this film demonstrates, it is possible to make it through the despair.

And Breathe Normally is a character-driven film, and the two leads are both astonishing. Kristín Þóra Haraldsdóttir is a revelation as Lára, who is living paycheck-to-paycheck with her son, hoping to overcome the circumstances that just keep worsening. She tries to escape the impending despair, and is ultimately unsuccessful – and she soon realizes that when you’re at your lowest, the only way is up. Haraldsdóttir gives a truly dedicated performance, and while she may be the least sympathetic of the main characters (her situation can only be seen as the result of her own shortcomings), the way she personifies Lára and her determination to survive, all the while keeping her own spirits high in order to still be a good mother to her child, is quite remarkable. The same can be said for Babetida Sadjo, whose performance as Adja is the most poignant. The stories of migrants leaving their homes to better their lives are both heartbreaking and powerful, and often become truly inspiring when they manage to flourish after a period of hopelessness and uncertainty. Yet, what about those that don’t succeed in even starting the journey? And Breathe Normally looks at the common but under-represented occurrence of an immigrant not being able to reach their goals and achieve their ambitions. Sadjo is brilliant in this film, conveying Adja’s emotion state, in both moments of admirable resilience and heart-wrenching despair, with such honesty and profound meaning. The two leads are extraordinary, and while the first act is mostly focused on their individual stories, the film finds its footing when their stories intertwine, with the actresses playing off each other with remarkable simplicity, bringing out the truth in these characters, resulting in a pair of the most powerful performances of the year.

There is an underlying beauty in And Breathe Normally that is unnoticeable at first – the landscapes of Iceland are presented as cold, unwelcoming and arid, or at least metaphorically so. Yet, there is a kindness presented throughout – perhaps the cultural institution that serves as the backdrop to this film can be quite harsh, the empathy presented by various auxiliary characters to the two protagonists is poignant and truly moving. This is a film that, through all of its honesty in showing the plight of two women, is more celebratory than it is hopeless. It looks at the tenacity that comes about in times of struggle, and the resilience that all of us are capable of when presented with challenges. And Breathe Normally is a film that never deviates from its central message, and it executes it with profound dignity that never appears false or unnecessary in any way. The brutally honest socio-political impact of And Breathe Normally is matched only by the film’s compassion and humanity, and how it cares deeply about these characters, and allows the audience to empathize with two individuals that would otherwise be portrayed as wholly negative – a former drug addict and an illegal immigrant are hardly the most admirable characters, but through the beauty of this film, they come to be seen as far more than just the sum of their actions. This film is a heartful and beautiful realist tale, and it stands as a socially-charged masterwork that overcomes its downbeat premise and finds itself being truly inspiring and utterly beautiful in a number of ways. A true gem of a film, and one that (granted it finds the audience it deserves), can bring about change in its own small but necessary way.