Yrsa Roca Fennberg’s documentary frames a way of life in different ways. It begins with a moody, Bergman-like intro but it eventually switches to its main subject – a man who lives in rural Iceland. Their rituals seem mundane, like dinner scenes where his wife prepares him something that he’ll end up mashing.

However, there’s a dread to these scenes. While waiting for and preparing dinner, the couple hear radio announcements of fellow townspeople who have recently passed. Such announcements do not seem to faze the man, who is both a fishmonger and a herder, or at least that what he thinks.

Those announcements also remind him that he will not always be physically able to care for his farm. This autumn, like the title hints at, is the last time that younger members of his family will help him herd his sheep. His family, despite being nice, don’t see themselves caring for the farm.

Some see land, and thus nature, as this group of elements able to withstand change. More people, if not everybody, associate the land with a sort of mysticism. But there are parts of the documentary which sees that mysticism in an infantile way. Like the storytelling scenes between the herder’s wife and their grandchildren.

Other scenes, like business negotiations between either family members or fellow herders, that go towards the disappointingly mundane. The documentary is trying to show how their lifestyle is going by the wayside, but some scenes are better at delivering points it already makes.

Capturing this world through 16mm stock, the documentary goes through some wild tonal shifts. Something also feels excessive when the couple returns home, making one of their final meals of sheep brains and cured meats. The movie, then, feels both too excessive in parts and quiet in others.