But now I\u2019m getting ahead of myself. First we meet Maria (Noomi Rapace) and Ingvar (Hilmir Sn\u00e6r Gu\u00f0nason), a farming couple living a modest, rural life. The first few scenes are entirely free of dialogue, the soundtrack filled by animal sounds and country quiet, and Maria and Ingvar don\u2019t seem to have much to talk about anymore anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And then\u2026 well, something happens. The trailers and marketing have been careful not to say exactly what, and I\u2019ll honor that here \u2013 and for several scenes of the film itself, it\u2019s not entirely clear. (And then it\u2019s revealed. Boy, is it revealed.) Suffice it to say that Maria is prompted to take over the \u201cmothering\u201d of a newborn lamb, a development that Ingvar initially side-eyes. But in the next scene, he breaks down during a moment alone, so there\u2019s clearly some history at play here, and not long after that, he brings a barely used crib in from the barn. Soon, the lamb is sleeping in it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Complications arrive in the form of Ingvar\u2019s brother P\u00e9tur (Bj\u00f6rn Hlynur Haraldsson), who asks (not unreasonably), \u201cWhat the fuck is this?\u201d And his brother replies with one word: \u201cHappiness.\u201d Hey, y\u2019know, live and let live, and when P\u00e9tur insists, \u201cIt\u2019s not a child, it\u2019s an animal\u201d \u2026 well, who\u2019s to say? If \u201cparenting\u201d the lamb makes them happy, what of it?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Again, preserving the story\u2019s turns (and they\u2019re frequently shocking, or at least startling) means talking around much of the narrative. But suffice it to say that J\u00f3hannsson uses his cool, minimalist style to pack copious dread into ostensibly innocuous scenes; he has a way of framing his shots and assembling his scenes that makes them seem inescapably ominous, even when nothing obviously \u201cbad\u201d is happening. And Lamb<\/em> gathers steam, framed and cut and scored in a way that\u2019s just strangely, almost indescribably distressing – it speaks to the skill of the performers and the technique of the filmmaker that the connection between these characters seems so genuine and heartfelt that the mere notion<\/em> of something disrupting that is so disturbing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n J\u00f3hannsson\u2019s approach has its limits. While his lack of expositional hand-holding is certainly refreshing, there are a couple of key moments where the storytelling is oblique to the point of inscrutability, or where motivations shouldn\u2019t be nearly as foggy as they suddenly are. But given the choice, I\u2019ll take this over the inverse, also known as pretty much every other movie in theaters right now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I saw Lamb<\/em> at Fantastic Fest, a freewheeling genre film festival that might not\u2019ve <\/em>been the best place to show a challenging grief narrative that A24 has (as is their wont) packaged as a Gothic horror joyride. There were scattered titters and giggles from viewers refusing to engage with it beyond the surface, looking for a good time even when the picture was giving them something quite different. But there\u2019s nowhere to hide by the closing sequence, in which Rapace has a breakdown so raw and so vulnerable that I felt myself looking away \u2013 it seemed too private to watch. They stopped giggling then. What a wild, uncomfortable experience this movie is. <\/p>\n\n\n\n “Lamb” is out Friday in theaters.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/lamb2-1024x429.jpg\")
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