Innocence doesn’t just end, it is dashed on the jagged rocks of experience at the end of a torpid Icelandic summer in Guðmundur Arnar Guðmundsson‘s beautifully observed, though overlong coming-of-age tale. Less a structured story than a series of fleeting impressions, it is told not through dialogue or exposition, but through ephemeral, sensuous details — long hair whipped by gusts of wind, sunlight trapped in the peach fuzz of a cheek, droplets of sweat beading the nape of a neck, fingers beginning to prune in spring water.

Continue reading Icelandic Debut ‘Heartstone’ Is A Beautiful, Heartsore Account Of Childhood’s End [Transilvania Fest Review] at The Playlist.