Touch Parent Guide

Kristófer (Egill Ólaffson) is a successful restaurateur who sings with a choir in his spare time, but he’s increasingly worried about his failing memory. His doctor can’t give him a firm diagnosis without an MRI, but his advice is to finish up unfinished business, counsel that sends Kristófer’s mind spiraling back to 1969.

A student at the London School of Economics, Kristófer (played in his youth by Palmi Kormákur) feels that his studies are increasingly irrelevant to the lives of real people. Acting on impulse, he takes a bet from his friends and drops out of school to work at a Japanese restaurant. The owner, Takahashi-san (Masahiro Motoki) is mystified as to why anyone would drop out of the prestigious LSE, but Kristófer’s experience on fishing boats in his home country of Iceland builds a connection between the two men and the erstwhile student is soon washing dishes and learning to cook.

Kristófer has a natural affinity for the job, but the bigger attraction is Takahashi’s daughter, Miko (Kôki). The two strike up a friendship that quickly becomes something more. When the restaurant closes unexpectedly and the Takahashis vanish without a word, Kristófer is left with a broken heart and questions that weigh him down for decades. Now he’s determined to find answers but there’s just one problem: it’s March 2020 and the world is hurtling towards lockdown as Covid-19 launches its first wave of lethal infections…

Touch is what I call a “reading glasses” movie, in that it’s the type of film enjoyed mostly by people who are old enough to need readers or bifocals. The film isn’t dull but it moves slowly, gradually unfolding its plot and deepening its character development. Teenagers will probably be bored, but older adults will be drawn in by the movie’s sincere emotion, layer upon layer of love, grief, regret, resignation, resilience, hope, and unexpected joy.

Character-driven films are entirely reliant on their casts and Touch is anchored by heartfelt performances. Palmi Kormákur is all youthful idealism, open-minded curiosity, and heart-deep devotion as the young Kristófer. His older self is given trepidation, hope, and determination by Egill Ólaffson. And both actresses who portray Miko, Kôki and Yôko Narahashi, imbue her with tenderness, dignity and an iron will.

As for negative content, the film scores well on profanity and violence, with little of either. There are a few minor swear words in the script and some references to the nuclear bomb dropped on Hiroshima but there is no on-screen violence. Bigger issues involve substance use, including scenes of cheerful intoxication, and sexual activity. There are a few sex scenes in the film, but two are shot in dim light with no explicit detail, and a third is fully clothed (although the activity is unmistakable). That said, the Restricted rating is unfair (as is often the case with non-Hollywood productions) and this movie should be rated on the high end of the PG-13 scale.

Frankly, the rating might be wrong, but that’s largely irrelevant since this film is made for adults anyway. Adults who want a story that will tug at their heartstrings and maybe make them sniffle a bit will find this gentle tale touching and rewarding.