María and Ingvar are sheep farmers in Iceland, stuck in both a rut and a one-sided loveless marriage as each day of tending to the sheep rolls into the next. Upon the birth of a lamb that doesn't seem to quite be a lamb, the couple's caring for it ultimately changes the dynamic of their relationship. What seems to be a happy development for this couple is marred for the audience by the constant feeling of something not quite being on the level, with both this new lamb and the circumstances around its birth. As the film progresses, other outside elements creep into María and Ingvar's happy little domestic life, changing them forever.
Two fair warnings for Lamb upfront: first, beware for any viewers that might be a bit squeamish, as we are treated to multiple live birthing of animals. Second, Lamb isn't what you think it is. While being billed as a supernatural horror film, the trailers are cut to slightly deceive those expecting something more on the level of Hereditary or Midsommar, also movies distributed by the vaunted company A24. A24 has become synonymous with producing and distributing off kilter movies that aren't afraid to take risks and delight in serving up horror that can shake the faith of even the staunchest fans of the genre. Lamb is not that. What the film is, however, is a meditation on grief and loss, the processing of said grief, and how that processing can negatively impact others. Through an incredibly sparse script, co-written by director Valdimar Jóhannsson, the real horror is the time spent waiting for the other shoe to inevitably drop. Lamb is a 95 minute buildup waiting for the last five or so minutes to deliver. While Jóhannsson excels at maintaining the overall creepy atmosphere of an isolated couple dealing with the birth of an unnatural mammal, the overall story itself is a bit thin. Again, Lamb isn't what you think it is.
Starring Noomi Rapace as María and Hilmir Snaer Gudnason as her husband Ingvar, a lot of the story between the couple is conveyed in its subtlety between the actors. The film opens on the immediate realization that the feelings in this marriage have all but faded for one of them, with the appearance of the titular Lamb as the catalyst for change between the two. The cause of the waning feelings is never explicitly stated but left for the audience to pick up on; Jóhannsson trust the audience to fit the pieces together. While difficult to pick up on at first, the signs of slow, hopeful transformation are there: a smile, a light brush of the hand. Seeing the love creep back into a couple is far more refreshing than its opposite and both actors play their parts well. Just as things seem to be changing for the better, Björn Hlynur Haraldsson enters the fray as Pétur, Ingvar's brother, who seems to be much more interested in María than in Ingvar. While this rouge element is meant to shake up this newly forming status quo and send the story on its head, the resulting unraveling of events more fizzles than explodes.
Directed by Valdimar Jóhannsson, his first feature-length film, Lamb is more concerned with mood and tone than anything else; a word isn't spoken between our two main characters for the first 10 minutes. While the story lacks any narrative thrust, the direction attempts to make up for that. Smart camera placement that hints at subtle reminders of the placement of certain objects shows the care and detail that went into the production of the film. Jóhannsson's pacing is slow, methodical. Lamb takes its time in the unraveling of events, letting the audience fully understand the dynamic between the characters and Ada, the lamb. The real standout of the film is in its cinematography; lingering beautiful establishing shots of the countryside the couple live in makes Lamb less of a supernatural horror and more an invitation to visit Iceland.
Overall, Lamb is a visually dazzling movie with little in the way of an actual story. The incredibly slow burn from Jóhannsson moves at a glacial pace, letting the mood do much of the heavy lifting. While Guðnason and Haraldsson turn in fairly subdued performances, Noomi Rapace is the obvious star of the film with the widest emotional journey. The supernatural elements lurk in the background, lending a possible misnomer for what the film actually is: a domestic drama between a couple whose lives are upheaved by the birth of this unnatural animal. Lamb hits theaters October 8th.
