Portrayed with level-eyed restraint by Arndis Hronn Egilsdottir, Inga gives “The County” its ballast and its pulse. As the movie opens, she’s helping one of her cows give birth to a calf, literally pulling the creature out with chains and sheer force of will. Later, when the farm her husband inherited comes under pressure from the local co-op, she applies the same perseverance and strength to rooting out long-standing corruption, despite the fear and disapproval of her rural neighbors.
Written and directed by Grimur Hakonarson (“Rams”), “The County” is billed as a dramedy, but there are no laugh-out-loud moments here, with the exception of Inga’s creative use of a manure spreader. (Far less amusing is Hakonarson’s on-the-nose use of clanging metallic music and sound effects whenever Inga finds herself slipping into a righteous rage.) The film is composed of long takes that make the most of Iceland’s sweeping, wide-open landscape, as well as the faces of inhabitants whose traditional way of life has changed with both automation and urban flight.
Even with some strangely perfunctory plot pivots and an abruptly unsatisfying ending, “The County” benefits from Egilsdottir’s central performance, which is both delicate and imposingly stalwart. She’s never less than sympathetic — but you wouldn’t want to be in her bad books, especially if she’s holding the keys to that manure spreader.
Unrated. Available at afisilver.afi.com and angelikaanywhere.com. Contains some profanity. In Icelandic with subtitles. 92 minutes.