Halla (Halldóra Geirharðsdóttir) is a mild-mannered choir teacher who harbours a very unconventional secret – when she is not conducting the ragtag group of citizens in harmonious arrangements, she is the infamous “Woman of the Mountain”, a activist (some would call her a vandal) who has taken it upon herself to prevent the encroaching threat posed by an enormous industrial corporation known as Rio Tinto, which has recently entered into an agreement with the Icelandic government to open a factory in the idyllic countryside, taking advantage of their resources without actually accounting for the influence they will have on the environment. Halla is a woman quite literally fighting a war all on her own, doing everything in her power to impinge upon the machinations of a company that does not have the interests of the world at heart. While the corporation is driven by money, Halla is motivated by her passion for humanity and her refusal to allow the planet to die at the hands of those who are just chasing after wealth. Meanwhile, in her own personal life, she is trying to adopt a child, an orphan from Ukraine named Nika who lost her parents during the violent conflict, and is desperately looking for a family to grow up in. Halla tries to reconcile her endeavours to save the planet with her desire to help Nika, which is not particularly easy to do when it becomes clear that the government is lurking dangerously close to finding out who the elusive environmental terrorist is, and ensuring that she faces the punishment that she apparently deserves, simply for trying to save the world and preserve future generations of life.

Benedikt Erlingsson made a film that doesn’t appear like much on the surface, but once you engage with Woman at War (Icelandic: Kona fer í stríð), it becomes clear that this is one of the year’s most audacious films, a daring and hilariously strange comedy that has some very serious issues underlying it, and a social message that is infused with enormous amounts of outrageous humour and deadpan dark comedy that makes it an unforgettable experience. There aren’t many films that tackle such serious subject matter as the environment and the impact humanity has had over it through the reckless rise of industrialization. This isn’t even considering how it does so through the lens of a subversive dark comedy, which is in itself one of the primary reasons behind the success of this film, as it gives it a certain acidic tone that is far more effective than anything more traditional. An exercise in bold storytelling, and even more profound thematic explorations, Woman at War finds itself occupying an ambigious space between hilarious and harrowing, which is only further buttressed by the intense execution, which alternates between gorgeous and heartbreaking. This is a film layered with meaning, executed with precision and superbly well-constructed in every way, and is one of the most compelling films of the year so far.

With her performance in Woman at War, Halldóra Geirharðsdóttir proved herself to be someone the world should start paying attention to. A committed character actress known mainly for her work in Icelandic television, and the occasional film in which she normally occupies a supporting role, Geirharðsdóttir has a breakthrough in a role that any actress working today would be envious of – not only is she giving a true tour-de-force of performance, she does it twice, playing two characters. Dual roles are not particularly easy to pull off, and even when they are, they’re rarely ever effective and sometimes can come across as hopelessly gauche at best, deeply unsettling at worst. Yet, in Woman at War, Geirharðsdóttir seems to have absolutely no trouble playing twin sisters with different personalities, crafting two unique individuals in a way that the viewer would be rightly misled to think that they are watching a real pair of twins. This is the kind of performance that doesn’t demand attention – it is often very subtle, and Geirharðsdóttir always opts for a more subdued portrayal, always resisting the temptation to go too far with a character that is naturally designed for excess. Halla is the more central of the two sisters, and the one whose journey we are focused on – and through her performance, which is a fearless combination of good-natured self-deprecation, outrageously impressive physical work and a form of plucky underdog confidence that is missing in the era of the movie star, Geirharðsdóttir is astounding. Woman at War belongs to her, from beginning to end, and her ability to command the screen alone makes this film worth watching.

However, there is obviously more to Woman at War than just the incredible leading performance, with Geirharðsdóttir serving only to be the vessel through which the daring and impactful story could flow (not to undermine her efforts – she is nonetheless incredible, but the film itself has a broader meaning outside of her performance). Woman at War is a film that is pulsating with anger and despair – this is one of many films that have been made over the past decade that take on the theme of climate change and look at environmental destruction directly, shaping the entire film around the concept of man-made destruction, and the threat our reckless disregard for nature holds for our planet. Erlingsson is clearly apoplectic, as this film makes it known that it doesn’t exist to merely be an empty sentiment and an attempt to capitalize on the modern discourse surrounding these issues. This is not a trendy film, nor one that is benefitting from the modern zeitgeist – it is a heartwrenching portrayal of the state of our world, and how once we reach the point of no return, we are doomed. One of the most disconcerting moments in Woman at War comes when our heroine distributes an anonymous letter where she makes it a point to reiterate how our generation is the last one that can save the planet – it isn’t beyond salvation. Yet, should we continue on this path of dismissing the very clear signs that something is amiss, this won’t be the case. We might not suffer the consequences, but future generations definitely will. This is what Woman at War tries to convey, and it is extremely successful, because it understands that in order to effectively convey a message, you need to create a sense of urgency, and there hasn’t been a film in recent years that has made such a profound statement without resorting to anything other than the explicit truth.

However, Woman at War is not nearly as dour or miserable as its thematic underpinnings would suggest – in fact, Erlingsson made one of the most outrageously brilliant films of the year, a film so heavily informed by the deadpan humour of the European arthouse, it almost becomes absurd in its approach to the story. It is a darkly comic fable about human greed and corruption, whereby the most unlikely of heroes is forced to take matters into her own hands. There is something so surreal about the person tasked with saving the world being a middle-aged choir conductor, yet it works so well in the context of the film, which may be about a very serious issue, but is not afraid to make fun of itself. The reason behind this is not to make light of a grave issue, but rather to stir conversation and incite thought through a very unconventional approach. The way this film presents climate change and the threat it poses through subversive and almost broadly comical means is extraordinary, and while it doesn’t underplay the danger the heroine experiences (the scenes of her engaging in conflict with the corporations are genuinely thrilling and more effective than the excessive sequences in most action films), it doesn’t ever need to be melodramatic or overly serious to get its message across. Woman at War has a very unique sense of humour, one that is difficult to get quite right, but it works towards lending the film a certain resonance that would not have worked had the film been more straightforward.

Woman at War is a terrific film, and one that works on a variety of different levels, imparting a certain message through darkly comical means, but not losing sight of precisely what it wants to say. Halldóra Geirharðsdóttir commands the screen with such incredible conviction and gives a performance that is sure to make anyone stop and pay attention to the story she’s conveying. It is a provocative film, one that doesn’t beat around the bush, rather choosing to be a raw and uncomfortable experience, because it is in these moments of awkward meandering that this film is most effective. Occasionally silly, very often profound, Woman at War has a lot of heart and manages to be one of the few genuinely earnest social satires that actually endeavours to incite some change without being heavy-handed or preaching too heavily on a particular theme, and that fact alone is enough for this film to warrant immense acclaim. Erlingsson saw the opportunity to make a film that operates as a remarkably effective comedy, as well as an extraordinarily powerful social manifesto that tries to get to the very core of the human condition with heart and soul, and perhaps a decent dosage of unhinged anarchy for good measure, and it all works out in making one of the most gloriously deranged but genuinely moving films of the year.