Based on a popular Icelandic novel of the same title (101 is the city’s central postcode), writer/director Baltasar Kormákur’s debut portrays a contemporary Reykjavík both perverse and charming, much like its central character. The story follows the night life and deathly days of Hlynur (a letter-perfect Hilmir Snaer Gudnason), an unemployed slacker nearing 30 who lives with his mother in a cramped flat, spending his copious free time drinking in bars, smoking hash, downloading porn, and occasionally sleeping with Hofi, an icy Brünnhilde-type who lets him treat her like shit.

When his mother’s English-speaking flamenco teacher, Lola (Almodóvar veteran Victoria Abril), comes for a visit, Hlynur slowly becomes obsessed with her lust for life and for his mother, in that order. Just after the couple announce Lola’s pregnancy via sperm donor, Hlynur finds out that Hofi is also pregnant — and it’s not clear which of these babies might be his. It is tempting to dismiss Kormákur’s plot as formulaic — fiery foreign woman brings depressed man back to life — but this funny, eccentric film is full of surprises, including a fine soundtrack from Damon Albarn of Blur and Einar Orn of the Sugarcubes, and it refuses to pity or romanticize Hlynur. We’ve all been to this postal zone, after all.