Northwestern Iceland, 1980. Middle aged Jón spends his days knitting on a remote farm he shares with his overbearing, cantankerous mother. Together they share an isolated existence, but when Jón’s mother dies suddenly, his lonely world becomes even smaller, and he decides to honour her final wishes to be buried in her hometown of Eyrarbakki. Hilmar Oddsson’s Driving Mum takes its audience on a darkly funny and moving road trip through the fjords of Iceland and grief itself; the grief of losing a loved one, however complicated that relationship may be, the grief of paths not taken, and a life not lived.

What starts with deadpan realism steadily blends steadily into visually striking surrealism, as Jón’s mother begins to become the backseat driver from hell. Through his encounters with old faces, lonely drifters and drunken birthday party goers, Jón’s horizons begin to expand beyond that of his life on the farm and his co-dependent relationship with his mother.

Cinematographer Óttar Guðnason photographs stunning Icelandic vistas, captured in moody black and white, that beg to be seen on the big screen. Just as epic as the landscape photography are the grizzled closeups of Pröstur Leó Gunnarsson’s Jón, whose expressive face feels as if it’s been plucked straight from the silent era. It’s a performance that can play macabre comedy and quiet longing within a single scene. Elsewhere, Oddsson directs what is possibly the best canine performance this side of Anatomy of a Fall in a truly scene stealing turn from Jón’s adorable dog.

For community cinemas that loved the dry humanism of Aki Kaurismäki’s Fallen Leaves or the monochrome beauty that was Babel Jalali’s Fremont, Driving Mum is a funny and ultimately moving road trip well worth taking.

Driving Mum is available for community cinemas to screen now.