This scientifically plausible, CGI-tastic disaster film will either do wonders for Iceland’s tourist industry or destroy it completely. Vigdís Hrefna Pálsdóttir stars as a volcanologist called Anna, who is descended from a short line of volcanologists (just her dad). When mini volcanos start erupting and earthquakes get more frequent, Anna begins to suspect the subterranean systems everyone thought were separate might all be fed from one big magma lake deep underground. Great gaseous clouds of geologic mumbo jumbo get spewed into the dialogue, backed up with sombre graphs on computer screens and people drawing stuff on blackboards. But the gist is that Reykjavik is in danger.

Of course, the powers that be are sceptical about Anna’s theories and don’t want to cut off the island’s supply of sweet, sweet tourist money. Pretty soon, though, the signs are too numerous to ignore. And a big eruption either could last a day or two, or as Anna points out, for 30 years, like a volcano that erupted in the 9th century. (Good thing Icelandic history goes back that far.)

While all this is brewing, Anna starts having the feels for hunky Danish photographer Thomas (Pilou Asbaek, the priapic bad boy Euron Greyjoy in Game of Thrones). Anna is inconveniently married to nice but dull Kristinn (Joi Johannsson), with whom she has daughter Salka (Steinunn Kaldal Jakobsdóttir). But Thomas’s beautiful pictures of gas clouds and of herself looking worried while observing said clouds, along with his groovy bachelor pad where he listens to Nick Cave, light a fire in Anna’s loins and soon they are having an affair. Given Iceland has a population roughly equal to Coventry’s, it doesn’t take long for word to get round about her and Thomas, giving those who doubt Anna’s volcanic theories an advantage.

Even though this is a pretty lurid mashup of romance and catastrophism, and splattered with cliches from both genres, the end result is very watchable thanks in large part to the quality of the acting. Pálsdóttir and Asbaek have genuine chemistry, even if they start grinning a little too excessively when dancing together in a party scene, as if about to perform dental procedures on each other. Another bonus is the terrifically eerie orchestral score by up and coming composer Herdís Stefánsdóttir, who also wrote the music for two recent M Night Shyamalan features and some upmarket TV shows including The Essex Serpent. Stefánsdóttir’s score here is full of creepy discordance and ominous drones, which suits the sweeping footage of the famously beautiful/scary Icelandic landscape. Altogether, it is an impressively assembled package for director Ugla Hauksdóttir, making her feature debut.

• The Fires is on digital platforms from 27 July.