"Lamb" a Bergmanesque fable that's strange, arresting, if anticlimactic

Lamb (2021)


Some films reward the most when one goes in knowing as little as possible. As it goes with most A24 releases that share a singular, fiercely independent sensibility, mainstream audience members tend to get angry that the film being sold in the marketing materials is not always the film they actually get. Director Valdimar Jóhannsson’s assured feature debut, "Lamb," could be such a film. If one is expecting a diabolically unsettling arthouse horror film (like, say, “The Witch” or "Hereditary”), it is not that at all. Instead, “Lamb” is more of a Bergmanesque fable with horrific stuff that eventually happens. It could be considered a tragic horror film, a parental nightmare, an absurdist dark comedy, or all three at once, but every viewer will have a different response. 


The premise behind "Lamb" is so strange and absurd when you hear it, but it’s also hard to talk about. Here’s what can be said: Maria (Noomi Rapace) and Ingvar (Hilmir Snær Guðnason) are married and holding down a sheep farm in Iceland. They seem to be missing something in their lives—or something, like a child, was taken from them years ago—until one of the sheep gives birth. It is a lamb, but a lamb with special qualities that the couple treats like their very own child. When ne’er-do-well brother Pétur (Björn Hlynur Haraldsson) drops in unannounced, he doesn’t know what to make of “Ada,” this new thing in his brother and sister-in-law’s life. Ada brings a much-needed source of happiness to both Maria and Ingvar, and she could change their lives forever.


“Lamb” reminds of Jonathan Glazer’s “Birth” in that both films handle daringly ridiculous concepts with visual elegance and unexpected subtlety, sometimes ponderously. From the film’s atmospheric opening frame, a foreboding lingers over a wintry tundra that even makes the horses nay and run away. There’s something very off-kilter here that extends to the film’s Nordic milieu, where daytime exists for 24 hours. Director Valdimar Jóhannsson does display total precision and command of tone, aided by every arresting frame shot by cinematographer Eli Arenson and the haunting orchestrations by composer Þórarinn Guðnason. Another crucial element to making this material work is the earnest commitment of Noomi Rapace and Hilmir Snær Guðnason. The actors retain straight-faced conviction even when Maria and Ingvar’s parental situation spirals wildly and the couple’s hope is ultimately extinguished. Ada herself is quite the achievement, as well, through a startlingly convincing (and often adorable) blend of child actors, baby animals, puppetry, and visual effects.


Without accentuating many of their reveals (including the full form of Ada), writer-director Jóhannsson and co-writer Sjón tell their story so methodically. Fortunately, it becomes almost hypnotic rather than tedious. Thematically, the film is clearly saying something about the lines we cross to fill a void, even it's going against nature's intent, and it does leave itself open to being read as an allegory about intercountry adoption. It’s inevitable that Maria and Ingvar’s happiness with Ada cannot last, but what isn’t seen coming is how we get there in the quietly devastating final few moments. Since its conclusion is so bleak and bold, one cannot help but find it a bit anticlimactic, too. Nevertheless, “Lamb” takes such beautifully composed swings that it deserves to be part of a Parenthood Cinema Triple Bill alongside “Eraserhead” and “Splice.”


Grade: B -


A24 is releasing “Lamb” (107 min.) in theaters on October 8, 2021.

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