The writer-director Rúnar Rúnarsson says the seed of When the Light Breaks has been with him for over 25 years. He reflects on the film’s visual language, the paradox of grief, and working with young actors.
The Icelandic writer-director Rúnar Rúnarsson and producer Heather Millard are nominated by the Icelandic jury for the the Nordic Council Film Prize 2025 with their film When the Light Breaks (Ljósbrot).
When the Light Breaks is set over the course of one long summer day in Iceland. The story follows the young student Una (Elín Hall) and her friends as they deal with the sudden loss of their friend Diddi (Baldur Einarsson). But beneath the surface of sorrow, Una harbours a secret. As the whole nation mourns alongside the group of friends, Una navigates the complex emotions of guilt and grief.
Rúnar Rúnarsson holds a degree from the National Film School of Denmark, and has a long roster of award-winning films, including the feature films Sparrows (Þrestir, 2015) and Echo (Bergmál, 2019), and the short films The Last Farm (Siðasti bærinn, 2004) and Two Birds (Smáfuglar, 2008). When the Light Breaks is produced by Compass Film.
In this dialogue series we interview the directors of the seven nominated films. CLICK HERE to see all the nominees.
Rúnar Rúnarsson, what was your first impulse to make this film?
Like all my films, it began from something deeply personal. I don’t usually reveal which parts are drawn directly from my life, because I believe everyone interprets reality differently. But the seed of the story has been with me for more than 25 years; questions of how we process grief, how we carry secrets, and how one day can change everything. My impulse was really to explore that duality: the private pain of individuals and the public need for collective mourning.
You both write and direct your films, how is the writer in you discussing with the director?
When I write, I am always aware that I will have to stage it later. So the writer is both dreaming freely and negotiating with the director, who knows the realities of production. I don’t want to make kitchen-sink dramas; the director in me pushes the writer to think visually, poetically, and on a larger scale, while the writer in me insists on emotional truth. On set, I also allow myself to reinvent what was written if reality offers something stronger.
How did you find the right young actors for the complex roles?
Casting was crucial. I worked with Vigfús Þormar Gunnarsson at Doorway Casting in Iceland, with whom I had already collaborated on Echo. Iceland is full of young talent, but I’m always searching for actors who can show rather than tell, which is harder than it sounds. With Elín Hall, I had known of her since she was a teenager; she has a remarkable presence and sensitivity that felt essential for Una.
But it wasn’t only about Una - it was about building a whole group of friends who could carry the weight of the story together. The film demanded that each of them bring their own truth, because every character has a personal connection to the event. Some of the actors, like Mikael Kaaber, who plays Gunni, or Katla Njálsdóttir, who plays Klara, had an immediate authenticity; you could feel their emotional intelligence even in the smallest gestures. Others, Ágúst Wigum, Baldur Einarsson, and Gunnar Hrafn Kristjánsson, all brought a natural energy and openness that balanced the more fragile moments.
They were just stepping into adulthood themselves, and that gave the right mix of strength and vulnerability. They understood that contradiction, feeling invincible one moment and deeply fragile the next. What impressed me most was how quickly they formed a bond with each other, which was crucial, because the story is about intimacy, about people thrown together in a moment of grief. Their chemistry wasn’t manufactured; it grew naturally, and I think the camera captures that.
Your film is about grief. How did the film find its light in the story?
Grief is complicated; it’s not only darkness. The same thing that makes you cry can, in the next moment, make you laugh. I wanted to capture that paradox. Light became both a literal and metaphorical element. We shot during late spring and early summer, when the sun hovers low, which felt like a perfect reflection of youth - full of promise, fragile yet powerful. The light gave the film its breath, its sense of hope, even in the middle of loss.
The images speak a lot in your films. How do you and your DoP Sophia Olsson work together to create the film’s atmosphere?
Sophia and I prepare very thoroughly. We spend time on locations, sometimes even acting out scenes ourselves, to understand how the space and light can be used. We’re always looking for ways to tell the story not only through words, but through framing, time, and atmosphere. It’s about building a visual language that reflects the inner lives of the characters - the universe pressing in on them, but also the poetry hidden inside ordinary moments.
Which themes became the most important for you during the process, and why?
The film is really about the grey scale of life. Stories are often presented like fables with a single moral, but reality is never just black or white. What fascinates me is how beauty and horror can exist in the same moment, and how people navigate that complexity. Also, the passage into adulthood became central: these characters are facing their first real test as young adults. They are strong, but also fragile, still shaping who they are. That mix of invincibility and vulnerability was essential.
How would you describe the current state of the film industry in Iceland?
It’s a small community, but a very creative one. There is an incredible pool of talented young actors, as well as strong crews and collaborators. Because of our size, everyone wears many hats, and that creates a collaborative spirit. At the same time, we have to be resourceful - budgets are not large, but that can push us to be inventive and to think carefully about what really matters. Icelandic cinema is still young, but it’s maturing quickly and gaining recognition internationally.
Official trailer:
CLICK HERE to read the jury's motivation for When the Light Breaks.
All nominated films for the Nordic Council Film Prize 2025 can be watched during these upcoming events:
