Hyde Park Pick: The Love That Remains

At just 22 minutes, Nest is a perfect short film. The film was shot (on 35mm) just outside Pálmason’s house and over a period of about 18 months captures his three children in the slow process of building a nest – or a sort of tree house without a tree.

Seasons change, creative energy changes, the nest changes. Sometimes the project feels like a true collective pursuit, other times it’s an endeavour one child or other grapples with either alone or in soft opposition to their siblings.

There were lots of films that came out of the Covid-19 period and this by far is one of the best, full of sensitive insight and gentle licks of humour. Whilst it was clearly shaped by the circumstances of various lockdowns, the final film doesn’t feel completely defined by that period or limited to being appreciated in relation to it.

The idea for The Love That Remains started to form whilst shooting Nest. As the children in Nest busied themselves constructing their castle, Pálmason let himself start to imagine what the imaginary parents were up to. Where are they whilst their children are whiling away the seasons? What are the events and happenings of this family unit which are shaping the lives of these little adventurers?

It’s a starting point that is very every day and within the grasp of most people’s imagination. That’s also what’s so immeasurably wonderful about the film. The story unfolds over the space of a year following a family in the aftermath of a break-up. They are re-learning how to function in a new form, once the nature of the love that previously held the unit together has changed but not disappeared.

“Love can only be known by its absence. We become immune to its presence, it’s sometimes difficult to see the love around you or the beauty in life. That’s what I wanted to try and tackle, that’s what I want the audience to feel. Maybe if people just tended to their garden, respected their neighbours, their children and nature, the world would be a better place. But everything and everyone has a darker side, and I don’t want my films to convey a glamorized image of life.” Hlynur Pálmason

The Love That Remains is visually arresting; it’s also acted with exceptional naturalism and compassion. There is also a humour running through the film that is enough to make a laugh blurt out aggressively, whilst tipping into muted melancholy with the next breath. Each of these individual parts make the film great, but it’s sincerity of the sentiment and comfort in the humanity of the overall message that make it so special.

The fact we’re playing the film running over the Mother’s Day weekend was an unintentional extra thing of note. But, important to consider. Whilst this isn’t a film exclusively about mothers, and Pálmason specifically wanted audiences to ‘not take a side’ as the drama unfolds. It is perhaps a film that in some part seeks to remind us as audiences to appreciate the labour our loved ones invest in us.

One day a year is too small a place to begin to show that gratitude but we must all remember how important it is to begin to say thank you to the mothers, fathers, grandparents, siblings – whatever to shape of the unit - please remember to show thanks to those who hold things together.