This observational study of a sheep farmer, named Ulfar, takes us to his isolated home on a misty cape of Iceland’s outermost Arctic reaches. This autumn is significant; it’s the last time the community will drive their sheep down the hillside, and Ulfar’s grandchildren are coming from Reykjavik to witness the passing of this lively ancient custom. Ulfar, his wife Oddney, and their sheepdog Loppa embrace quietude, although we do occasionally hear their radio solemnly announcing deaths and funerals.

Shot entirely on 16mm film, there are two sequences of exquisite monotone imagery—water, mountains, and cloudy skies—accompanied by portentous cello and a mournfully voiced poem about the gaping abyss that precedes genesis. Yrsa Roca Fannberg’s film is a restrained, sensitive elegy to disappearing rituals of old. -MB

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