Touch Reviews (original) (raw)

Spanning 50 years and multiple continents without ever shifting its focus from the universal human urge to ponder what could have been, Touch is an ode to accepting your life story without losing sleep over the things you couldn’t change.

If we’re nitpicking it’s fair to say that neither of the couple’s interior lives are as fully fleshed out as would be permitted in a novel, but maybe they don’t have to be: they function as avatars for romantic hopes and dreams as much as anything, delivering all the vicarious pleasure and pain that we’re looking for when we tuck into a good romance

Many of us have experienced situations in life that have left us wondering “what might have been,” especially in matters of romance. And sometimes these scenarios can linger in our psyche for a lifetime, gnawing away at us and potentially leaving us with feelings of profound regret. Some of us, though, vow not to succumb to such disappointment, taking action to resolve these matters before it’s too late. Such is the case of a 75-year-old Icelandic man (Egill Ólafsson) suffering from the onset of dementia during the early days of the COVID pandemic. With the clock running out, his health faltering and stringent quarantine measures being put into place, he’s nevertheless desperate to learn what happened to the love of his life, a beautiful young Japanese immigrant (Kōki) he met 51 years earlier while his younger self (Pálmi Kormákur) was living in London. After a brief, passionate love affair, she suddenly vanished and returned to Japan without an explanation, an event that has haunted him ever since. He decides to search for her before health and travel restrictions prevent him from doing so, an impulsive journey that takes him back to London and then on to Japan to find out what happened. To say much more would reveal too much about the secrets driving this compelling romance/mystery, suffice it to say, though, that the protagonist’s tale is an engaging one, told through an absorbing story line deftly peppered with flashbacks to different points in the characters’ lives. In telling this story of love and intrigue, writer-director Baltasar Kormákur presents a colorful mix of genuinely original characters in a variety of circumstances not depicted on the big screen before. Admittedly, the pacing could stand to be stepped up in a few places (an outcome that could have been accomplished with some judicious editing), and further enhancement of the back story and character development might have provided more meaningful depth to the overall narrative. However, given the captivating trail of bread crumbs that the filmmaker doles out for viewers, this heartfelt release leaves audience members continually wondering what’s coming next. And, in doing so, the picture serves up a number of little-known, eye-opening cultural revelations that add spice and diversity to a genre that seldom ventures into such unfamiliar territory, an objective carried out with a tremendous sense of warmth without becoming unduly sentimental. In my view, this is the picture that the vastly overrated “Past Lives” (2023) was trying to be (and could have been), one that entertains, enlightens and educates all at the same time while providing audiences with a tale that’s sure to tug at the heartstrings – and shows us how “what might have been” could have actually been brought into being.

A man who's near the end of his life decides to make one last journey to find his lost love, a Japanese woman he met 50 years earlier. His trip includes London and Nagasaki right at the onset of Covid. Meanwhile, the narrative continually switches back to the 70s, when their romance blossomed. Being an import from Iceland with an Asian angle, there's a sedate, almost Zen quality to filmmaking. While the tale unfolds slowly, the performances and direction make it quietly compelling. This film is never especially dramatic or emotional, but it is sweetly resonant.

It's a film that subtly reminds the audience to slow down, be present, and enjoy what one has, because it can be gone in an instant, while also encouraging hope. It's a beautiful cinematic journey and one not to be missed.

What’s worth taking away from the film is its peacefulness. There are moments of friendship and family and workplace camaraderie that are real and charming.

Ultimately, the film does its job with skill and heart.

Touch rekindles a treacly genre that I didn’t realize I missed. Its tender performances and gut-punch reveals are classic tear-jerker ingredients. Add to this a natural, inordinately sensitive approach to intercultural love — mercifully, without a sense of righteousness or obligation.

Touch, adapted from Olafur Johann Olafsson’s novel, is handsome, sentimental and restrained (admirably, in parts). But it also leaves a lot to be desired – yes, a movie about yearning left me yearning – chiefly when it comes to the central romance, which is presented as more ornamental than passionate.

Tivemos recentemente um "Vidas passadas", o que ofusca completamente qualquer tentativa de criar um roteiro que busca um amor do passado. Aqui, para piorar, nem há muitos conflitos entre eles, exceto pela separação brusca e a distância, aliás, a forma como ele finalmente consegue emcontrá-la é bem preguiçosa, até certo ponto isso é bom pois o roteiro não tá interessado em bagunçar, e sim contar uma história de amor mesmo, bem açucarada. Gosto de como o roteiro retrata o trauma pós Hiroshima e a questao de imigrantes num mundo globalizado, até chegar na COVID, isto é, está bem contextualizado ao menos, sem precisar de legendas. Mas é isso, uma espécie de conto de fadas: se o protagonista abandona uma ideologia utópica para trabalhar, o filme é tão utópico quanto, e ficamos só esperando as cenas finais, que não surpreeendem em nada.