Andið Eðlilega
Lára’s life is moments away from falling apart. A single mother with a young son, she is being
evicted from her bleak, little flat on a simple housing estate near Iceland’s international airport.
Telling her son they are going on an adventure, she packs the few possessions they have in her
old, battered, red car and drive off. Even the recently acquired cat gets to come along for the ride.
But Lára has a new job as border police at the airport. She is determined to make a good
impression and do well. She pays attention and works meticulously. She hopes to have a home
again soon.
One day, assisting a more experienced colleague, Lára comes face to face with Adja, a woman
from Guinea Bissau on her way to Canada. However, there is a problem. Lára identifies Adja’s
passport as fake. The document is confiscated and Adja is taken into custody. Both Lára and Adja
ask questions about what will happen next, yet no one seems to know nor care. Eventually, Adja
ends up in a hostel for people stuck in Iceland, like herself.
One morning, when the cat escapes form the car, Lára’s son gets out to find him. When Lára
wakes and finds the car empty, she panics and sets out in a desperate search for the two. She
drives around the desolate landscape and eventually finds him, walking through a field, holding
Adja’s hand.
The women recognise each other but remain silent. Relieved she has her son back, Lára thanks
Adja and drives off. Her son, however, asks why they don’t give Adja a ride. Lára pauses, reflects,
and decides to reverse her car. Adja gets in and the from that moment on, the stories of these two
women, mothers, survivors, become intertwined.
Set against a heavy-feeling landscape of grey concrete housing estates, slate coloured clouds,
fierce, howling winds and near constant rain, the tough reality of these women’s lives come to
light. Their search for a safe home, their urge to make a better life, their want for safety and
security. The only literal brighter spaces in this film are Lára’s work environment and Adja’s
lawyer’s office. The spaces that should come with the possibility of a better future but rather come
with unanswered questions and conflicted feelings.
This film highlights the uncertainty experienced by refugees within a system that should do better
to support and protect them. When their questions aren’t answered and their lives are put on hold.
It also shows us the desperation mothers can feel when trying to protect their children, their
futures and to what lengths they will go to in order to achieve that.
Towards the end of the film, a frustrated Adja tells Lára, “I must do something”. It is at this point
that Lára’s story takes a turn. She realises that even in her dire situation, she is still much better
off than her friend. Adja’s predicament is worse than her own and no one is helping her. Lára
wonders what can be done.
The women’s friendship may be short, but the way they help each other throughout the film leaves
a permanent light within the greyness of their stories. The questions asked are: who is willing to
help when those responsible for helping, don’t? What are you willing to risk to help another
human being who is stuck? What is the right thing to do?
“And Breathe Normally” is a quiet and raw story about hardship, hope, desperation and
friendship. It’s a film where actions carry more weight than words. Where the story evolves within
the silent moments. Lára and Adja’s story pulls us into a part of society, its people and their
struggles that we too often chose to ignore or are unaware of. Let this be the story that opens
your eyes and makes you aware.
Thank you to Ísold Uggadóttir for the photo material.
And Breathe Normally is available on Netflix