Is there something worse than loving someone and losing them for five decades? Yes, there is. This film about two people who leave an irreversible touch on each other brought tears to my eyes.

An old-school weepie smothered in a syrupy string score, Touch is an unexpected offering from Icelandic action director Kormákur, who has made his name pitting humans against nature: the Himalayas in Everest, the sea in Adrift, a rogue lion in Beast.

This is a love story, pure and simple and unashamedly emotional. Kormákur also understands the visual appeal of romance: it’s not just about the pillow talk or heady declarations of passion, it’s about the images, and he doesn’t stint us in that regard.

Touch is as much of a reminder that it’s worth taking life by the horns, especially if you know you’re bound to be bucked off its back in a matter of time, as it is a beautifully-singular, organic love story.