Filmmaker Snævar Sölvason's druggy, occasionally wry crime drama may remind viewers of "Trainspotting" in some moments, though urban Reykjavik at Christmas time (complete with holiday tunes) adds a mild novelty to the setting before narco-tragic elements familiar to the genre settle in. The no-hoper protagonists are Óliver (Hansel Eagle), an easygoing mushrooms user with foggy plans to open his own meditation center, and the more intense, shaven-head Olivia, AKA Lóa (Telma Huld Jóhannesdóttir), a self-styled "dancer" whom Óliver revives after finding her in a bathtub, submerged and nude, at her overdose-victim boyfriend's place after a night of bad heroin use. Not particularly shaken or wiser for the experience, the couple, now lovers, traffic shipments for a father-son team of local drug lords (and they also sell the stuff hidden in vintage VHS movies at a flea market as a sideline). When a seemingly untraceable batch of high-purity cocaine lands in their possession, the pair try to do a big score for themselves, but it doesn't end well, or in any particularly lucid manner, as Sölvason returns to a labored visual refrain throughout that surrealistically re-imagines Óliver and Lóa as naked and innocent infants in some kind of before-or-after-life, a "soulmate" gimmick that, in the long run, might have been better off left behind at film school (and might leave more than one viewer head-scratching over the plotline's references to "The Little Mermaid"). Acting and technical credits are as sharp as one could ask, and the item might be worth considering as a strong optional addition to foreign-cinema shelves. (C. Cassady)