Directed by Baltasar Kormkur

A brown grey wash seems to lie over this terrific, bleak Icelandic thriller: the colour of northern seas, scrubby windswept grass, urban grime, body parts in jars, disgusting food, and pasty faces that look like they've never seen the sun. Inspector Erlundur (Ingvar Eggert Sigurdsson) is investigating the murder of a middle aged man in a seedy basement flat, with only a secreted picture of a child's grave as a lead to his hidden life.

Meanwhile, Orn (Atli Rafn Sigurdsson) is mourning for his young daughter, dead from a rare inherited disease which he is seeking the roots of. Dead children, a mournful theme interwoven in the very heart of the two quests which inevitably interlock as the plot advances.

The film is taken from the detective novel by Arnaldur Idridason, one of a series about Erlandur, who more than matches Henning Mankel's Inspector Wallender in the philosophically depressed, worn-down stakes. His take-away snack of choice is boiled sheep's head, the sight of him tucking in to which vies with the most grisly of forensic discoveries in the rest of the film, one of the few moments of black (or maybe brown grey) humour which leavens the starkly bleak vision of frustrated hopes and man's inadequacies. But above this the plot is intricate and engrossing, with the odd surprisingly beautiful image, despite everything. But with every step taken, more woe, more corruption, more hopelessness is uncovered. Man hands on misery to man.

Seen at Tyneside Cinema, Newcastle, 17 September 2008