What is this fixation of Scandinavians with mental houses? Is it because they do not have the same problems as the rest of mortals have? This movie is so pretentious that one watches it all the way through just to figure out how far can it dare to go. A man walking in the water is not enough; showing God either. One must see him coming as a ghost and then transformed into a white pidgeon. It's naive in every sense. The icelandics should feel owerpowered by their astonishing landscapes, and they cannot help showing it off. Some scenes made me really blush: the horses galloping in slow motion, a couple of aerial takes out of focus, the declamatory dialogue. It's a pastiche of music, painting, postacard sundowns, unjustified dissolves and cheap poetry. These fellows should really go back to basic storytelling. The icelandic film industry, as the norwegian one, uncovers an amazing lack of ideas, and that's a real shame, regarding the amounts of money they waste in doing so-called "festival films". Funny that the video version of this crap was advertised as "seen by more icelandics than Titanic". Maybe the root of the problem lays there.