Somehow, Vikander sells it all, not with braying and big gestures, but with vulnerability, sincerity and the sort of ethereal realness that can't be quantified. More, please, more.

Though the movie at times feels oddly unfinished (you wonder what Miranda Richardson, in a tiny role as an Oxford professor, is there for), it's artful and moving.

As a story, it evokes a word that no battlefield nurse would ever apply to her experiences: sterile.

Though it’s a story based around war, there isn’t much carnage for audiences to digest or be reminded of. Instead, we are prompted to remember the loss through love.