A childless couple, María and Ingvar, discover a mysterious newborn on their farm in Iceland. The unexpected prospect of family life brings them much joy, before ultimately destroying them.
In the Icelandic summer, emotions come off with the barest of nods and grunts. A cold blue atmosphere surrounds the extremely late sunsets and the sheep need to be shorn. It’s birthing season for sheep and while the green buttresses to mountains stretch on joyously their volcanic tops omit dangerous portents. The sensation of loneliness multiplies so naturally, it’s a perfect location to push the question of: What is a family? Valdimar Jóhannsson takes a long slow look at this question with his first film “Lamb,” exactly the kind of ambiance-soaked subtext-driven film A24 loves to roll out. While intentionally slow-paced, the even-keel cinematography and surefooted approach to its very concept lend the movie more gravitas than it sometimes deserves making for a compelling watch if you’re patient enough.
Noomi Rapace plays María, a farmer out in the deepest reaches of Iceland. Alongside her husband Ingvar (Hilmir Snær Guðnason) the two discover a human-sheep hybrid birthed by one of their flock. Seeking to fill a hole in their lives they adopt this Lamb and raise it as one of their own. Only when Ingvar’s brother Petur comes to visit do ethical questions get raised and the question of HOW becomes incredibly important.
I know I just gave away the central concept but there’s no other way to talk about this movie and the “big reveal” is given away in the first forty minutes of the movie. It’s not entirely about the shock of this miracle of nature, but rather, on letting us sit with the idea, mull it over, and watch it grow in front of our eyes. By dragging this concept out we’re gifted a rather unique look into how far we’re willing to go to concede happiness to those who need it.
Considering there are only three actors in the entire film it’s a good thing all are adept performers. Noomi Rapace carries the film in muted expressions, only boiling over once or twice. Hilmir softens her with his vulnerable self. It’s in Ingvar’s brother, Petur (played by Björn Hlynur Haraldsson), we see a devil’s advocate. Far from being perfect too, Petur’s character reflects our awe at the well-animated Ada (sheep-human.) Through his journey we see our own values shift and adjust.
The film cycles through genres with efficiency, never dallying too long in just one ominous reflection. With a slow opening, we build to the climax of the first chapter reveal. Only in the subtext of that opening does any of this movie make sense. Copying the recipe from “Hills Like White Elephants,” we’re gifted a view into this couple’s icy existence. We infer from them a loss and sadness. It helps justify the acceptance of the shocking creature and turns the next chapter into a domestic drama bordering on western frontier melodrama. The whole thing is never viewed as absurdism but the final chapter delves deep into thriller as the carefully contrived family unit gets torn apart and questions of “How” start to get answered (some may laugh when they see it, some may cower. It’s a total coin toss).
Iceland is gorgeous. Its vast canyons and valley farm life add to the ambiance of the film and had it been filmed anywhere else it might not have worked at all. Instead, we’re gifted an impressive view of a country of stoic people whose most quiet moments are punctuated by sheep bleating.
This may be the first film I’ve watched where the sheep acting stands out. It is by far the best sheep acting I’ve ever seen. They must’ve rolled cameras for hours just to get the right expression. The vulnerability (I kid you not) and woundedness of the mother sheep, robbed of her child, lends the whole movie an eerie edge. Even Ada, the central conceit, works brilliantly. Johansson’s background in special effects informs the shy child’s look. A clever blend of puppetry, CGI, and makeup steer us through and out of the uncanny valley as our eyes adjust and as the creature grows into something cute.
Whether it’s a dig at animal cruelty or an Icelandic folktale brought to life, it certainly grows on you. “Lamb” builds momentum in much the way Robert Eggers’ “The VVitch” does. Its finale doesn’t ring as loudly, ending with more a stare into the existential void, but it certainly stands out. I felt conflicted about the whole movie’s ending the longer I sat with it, but further introspection helped me understand: the movie’s emotional arc follows Noomi Rapace much more the weird idea at the heart of this. Instead, the film’s content to push our ideas regarding family and ask us what consequences we’re willing to ignore to salvage a family. Check out “Lamb” some time when you get the chance and don’t miss the opportunity. Fans of slow-burn thrillers will enjoy!
In Theaters Friday, October 8th
