Rune Denstad Langlo's North is one of those dry, droll, mildly depressive northern European comedies. Erlend Loe's script is clever and quirky without being forced, and while the story is fairly unpredictable, the deadpan, observational tone is commendably consistent. Langlo got his start making documentaries, and he takes full advantage of the naturally alienating quality of the endlessly icy setting, and the rugged physicality of Jomar's (Anders Baasmo Christiansen) hazard-filled journey. Because the film is so immersed in this dangerous locale, Jomar's near-madness--his empty loneliness and his desperation to rekindle some kind of connection to his inner self--is quite palpable. Christiansen succeeds in making Jomar real to us. It's not an overly ingratiating performance, and Jomar isn't exactly loveable, but it's a fairly honest depiction of a man at the end of his rope, who begins to see a way back to humanity through his brief interactions with the people along his path. Once he sets out upon the road, his first encounter, while snowblind, with an intrusively curious teenage girl (Marte Aunemo) and her suspicious grandmother strikes just the right blend of off-putting oddness and reluctant hopefulness. There are similar encounters that dance nimbly on the borderline between sweet and creepy. In the end, the film works because Jomar's journey has such a gritty, arduous, frostbitten reality to it that we feel like we're right there with him. If it's not the most glorious place to be, at least it's a place to which few of us have gone before. North had its North American premiere at the 2009 Tribeca Film Festival.