Una and her secret lover excitedly whisper about their future together. All of those promises disappear in flames, leaving heartbroken Una to cope with the unexpected loss by herself. Una cannot bear the unfairness of having to be sidelined when she is entitled to grieve as much as, if not more than, anyone else. When the Light Breaks could have easily turned into an over-the-top melodrama, but Rúnar Rúnarsson has carefully crafted a sensitive and poignant coming of age story. In the wake of the devastating tragedy, there are no screams or wailings. Deliberate choices to distance the camera emphasize Una’s loneliness and displacement. The sparse dialogue yields to Jóhann Jóhannsson’s haunting chords yet no minute nuance is missed. Despite its relative short runtime at 82 minutes, there is so much tenderness and empathy. (Karen PARK)