Whether a Metaphorical Folktale or Literal Drama, "Lamb" is a Beautifully-Shot Nightmare That Won't Be Forgotten

 

I went into A24's latest offering Lamb expecting to see a specific sort of film. I had seen the trailers, which marketed this movie as a horror flick, and knew that if A24 was behind it, then I should be in for a wild ride. What I got was not a wild ride, nor was it a horror movie in any regard. Trust me when I say that the trailers do not do this movie justice. Instead we get this slow, weird family drama that verges on being some sort of nightmare. This movie is so bizarre, so extremely weird, that I don't know if it was meant to be taken literally or metaphorically. The ironic thing is, though, that if you view this film through either lens, it still manages to work. I'm going to do the best that I can to piece together my own understanding of this movie. Please don't take that as a turn off or a warning not to see it - movies are pieces of art, and sometimes there are pieces of art that take more contemplation than others. That's not a bad thing; I welcome that experience whole-heartedly. You may not, and that's okay, but if you're interested, bear with my wandering ramblings. Here we go.

Let me preface by saying if you're not a fan of slow films, this movie probably won't be your cup of tea. The story centers around a childless couple, María (Noomi Rapace) and Ingvar (Hilmir Snær Guðnason), who spend their days tending to their sheep, planting crops, and living a life of solace on their Icelandic farm, miles from the nearest person and so far north it never seems to get dark. Their simple, mundane life is soon upended when one of their sheep gives birth to a human-sheep hybrid (if you've seen the trailer, this isn't a spoiler). Rather than fleeing for their lives in horror at the thought and sight of this unthinkable discovery, the unexpected prospect of family life that the child brings causes them immense joy...before ultimately destroying them. Lamb is as arthouse as it gets, and you'll know just from the eerie opening few minutes if this movie is what you dig. It's an incredibly slow burn, and it waivers on being either this mythical folktale meant to elicit some deeper message or meaning, or a literal tale about a lamb child and that's crazy enough as it is. But like I said, however you want to view it, it works both ways.

The thing that drew me in immediately to this film was the gorgeous, and I mean gorgeous, cinematography. There are many long takes where the camera sits and lets you view the Icelandic landscape, and I soaked it in like a popcorn-eating sponge. The subtle camera work is effective, and I was taken by the epic mountain range that backdrops the farm, the eerie fog, the lack of darkness, and the overall atmospheric tone created by the setting. The entire movie takes place on María and Ingvar's farm, and as the film progresses you begin to feel more at home. Their cozy living quarters start to feel warm and inviting, cast against the cold and gray weather just outside their windows. This has a lot to do with the familial aspect that comes from Ada, the sheep-human child. There is never really any acknowledgement of what she is or how she came to be, at least not by María and Ingvar. You can assume based on what you're shown, but nothing is definitively confirmed, until the very end and even then it's still a bit murky. We get a taste of characters questioning her arrival when Ingvar's brother comes to visit, but even he is swooned by the mysticism and happiness that Ada brings, that it no longer becomes an issue. María and Ingvar immediately see her as a gift, and it's almost disarming to see that level of unquestionable acceptance, when as a movie-goer you know there's got to be more. Something sinister must be at play, and you wait for that shoe to inevitably drop. This movie is aware of this, I think, and toys with that notion of will-it-won't-it when it comes to letting you in on the "reality." For example, at one point Ingvar is seen taking the sheep out of the barn, (to graze, as was my thinking), but then we never see the sheep again. Are they grazing? Were they left out to pasture? Or was Ingvar getting rid of a source of confusion for his would-be "daughter," so that she didn't feel threatened or less than? I have no idea! But the movie constantly (though subtly) nods to the fact that there's more to what's being seen at all times. The ending both confirms this, while also leaving you wondering - so don't go looking for a solid answer to anything if you decide to check this out.

With the slow pace of the film, there's very little dialogue, all of which is in Icelandic. I would say a good 85% of this movie is purely visual storytelling, which I found remarkably interesting. I was never bored with the extremely long takes and still camera work. In fact, my favorite shot in the whole film is towards the beginning when Ingvar is seen running, but the scenery of the mountain rage behind him doesn't seem to move; it's as if he's running in place, and as the movie moves along and the story unfolds, this idea of "running in place" seemed so apropos to he and María's situation. The premise hooks you, and the rolling narrative streams you along, until the heartbreaking and mind-twisting end. Noomi Rapace gives a raw and subtle performance, culminating in a powerful and emotional moment upon the movie's end. Hilmir Snær Guðnason is also great, and it was easy to believe in their relationship. When Ada comes into play, you can't help but feel both happy and sad for the couple. Clearly their quick and unquestionable acceptance of this creature was meant to fill a void in their lives, a void left by trauma rather than born out of wanting. Ada is a disturbingly cute child, and it's both engrossing and unsettling to see her on screen. When we learn where she comes from, and when her journey take a sudden shift by movie's end, I was left baffled, a little confused, shocked, and drowning in questions that I wanted so desperately to be answered. But, that's not because the movie set up unanswerable questions; I think it was purposefully meant to be ambiguous. If that's the case, I'm okay with that.

This film is part supernatural, part drama, and touches on so many themes that you can take it figuratively and literally, and it would still be effective. It feels like a folktale, and could very well pull from Scandinavian folklore and I just don't know it, but then you could also draw parallels to the Bible - Mary and Joesph being charged to parent a unique child like no other. It touches on loss, love, the heartaches and trials of parenthood, tempting fate, defying nature, you name it and I'm sure it would apply. I know that if I spent another day or two thinking about it, or if I watched it again, my perspective might change. That's the beauty of this film, and all films for that matter. What writer/director Valdimar Jóhannsson has given us with Lamb is this beautiful nightmare, a piece of art that not only entertains, but makes you think, causes you to stir, and allows you to question. This is a movie worthy of discussion. It's a beautifully shot, well-acted piece of cinema that is highly mis-marketed, but one I recommend seeing regardless. This won't be for everyone, and I know that some may think it a waste of time upon viewing, but trust me when I say that Lamb is unlike any movie I've seen this year so far, and I'm glad.