Touch Review

Touch shares more than a few parallels to Past Lives. Both films center on former sweethearts looking back at what might have been, although there are several differences. Where Nora and Hae Sung were merely going steady as kids, the couple in Touch has a full-blown love affair. Touch spends less time in the present, focusing more on the past. This, along with a pandemic backdrop, helps to distinguish Touch. It’s nonetheless hard not to compare these two films with one admittedly living in the other’s shadow. Baltasar Kormákur’s film might not have the same impact as Past Lives, but it will leave you touched.

Egill Ólafsson plays Kristófer, an Icelandic man who lost his wife. He’s no stranger to loss, as his first love vanished decades earlier. Kristófer suspects his days are numbered, dodging calls from his doctor. With what little time he has left, Kristófer sets out to track down the one who got away. His seemingly hopeless pursuit is further complicated by COVID, which is just in its infancy. Kristófer is able to book a couple of flights as the world around him slowly shut down. He’s virtually the only guest at a London hotel where even the staff seems baffled by his presence. Nevertheless, the concierge is compelled to help Kristófer locate his lost love.

In flashbacks, Kristófer is played by Palmi Kormakur. With long hair and distinct glasses, young Kristófer seemingly bases his appearance on John Lennon. Like John and Yoko, Kristófer falls for a Japanese woman named Miko (Kōki). Working for Miko’s father as a busboy, Kristófer soon strikes up a secret romance with her. Although race is a factor, the film avoids most of the clichés you’d expect from a movie like this. There’s a quiet intimacy to Kormakur and Kōki’s chemistry, but there’s more to the relationship than physical attraction. Miko and Kormakur are drawn to each other because of their modern sensibilities. Unfortunately, Miko’s father isn’t as modern, unable to let go of the atrocities he endured in Hiroshima.

As charming as the scenes between Kormakur and Kōki are, the flashbacks are given a bit too much focus. This comes at the expense of the present scenes, most of which are dedicated to Kristófer’s search for Miko. I won’t say whether or not they reunite, but a lot of information is divulged in the last fifteen minutes. Had the film reached this point sooner, some of these revelations could’ve been fleshed out better. The screenplay, which Ólafur Jóhann Ólafsson adapted from his novel with Kormákur, hurries to a conclusion that leaves something to be desired.

The ending is nonetheless an uplifting one, although it lacks the subtle nuances of Past Lives. That’s not to say Touch is too on the nose, as it does allow scenes to play out without overanalyzing what the characters are experiencing. Yet, the film won’t leave you lying awake at night, wondering about the time these two lost. Even if it’s not as profound as it could have been, Touch is an endearing love story. Had there been a more even divide between the past and present storylines, it might’ve been a more satisfying story. Nobody can deny that it’s a romantic movie, however.