Mountains looming in the distance, cloud-covered and hovering over open green pastures and rolling hills, lull you into a false sense of security. The sky above, the mountains, and hills are just a façade that slowly begin to close in and isolate you, breaking you down and forcing you to confront your past and current reality. The tension mounts higher and higher and the burden begins to crack you until inevitably nature runs its intended course.
Lamb directed by Valdimar Johannsson, places an Icelandic folktale at the forefront of this story amidst the lives of a married couple who run a sheep farm. For starters, the setting for this film is hauntingly beautiful. The picturesque imagery of the open fields, rivers, lakes and colossal mountains are used to great effect to immediately grip the audience in an atmosphere that’s not only lush but incredibly bitter. This constant exchange of harshness and solace is reflected in many elements throughout the film as to create an ominous overtone that creeps its way in. The lighting choices were exceptional as there were many shots with contrasting lighting to subtly hint at an impending doom as the darkness seeks to envelop the light.
The characters in Lamb are definite standouts and are surprisingly fleshed out with only minimal but impactful dialogue and body language used. Noomi Rapace as María is by far my favorite as we see her character make the most complete transformation. Hilmir Snær Guðnason as Ingvar and Björn Hlynur Haraldsson as Ingvar’s brother Pétur also do very well to complement each other’s performances, which makes these relationships increasingly complicated but endearing. Even the animal performances were great, adding even another layer of mystique and unease to the story. The tension between María and Ingvar is evident in the first chapter as they just go through the motions and yet the audience knows that it wasn’t always like this for them. Then suddenly that dynamic completely shifts with the introduction of Ada who is a half human, half sheep hybrid. That alone will turn some away from this film for its sheer absurdity, but if like these characters, you just accept the absurd as easily as they do and lean into this film’s comical aspects, you will get a little more out of it. Despite the title, Ada, while disturbing and cute at times, isn’t actually the focal point of this tale. While her inclusion is what draws this film into fantasy, it’s the other character’s development we should be focused on. The film touches on grief and the unhealthy ways people cope with it, examining how far people will take it when they don’t confront their pasts, even to the point of being at odds with nature.
Where Lamb falters is in finding the necessary balance between its slow pacing and its tension-building. I for one love a slow burn in films, and better yet with expertly crafted tension and atmosphere throughout, you have the makings of something great. Unfortunately, it just doesn’t hit that mark with an ending that I found unsatisfying from a story and definitely a horror perspective, but on some level is appropriate for the film’s bitter humor. Though it can be difficult to categorize these kinds of films, Lamb might be a bit mislabeled as horror and those looking for a more traditional scare, just know that I found this film to be minorly unsettling at best. And although I didn’t get everything that I wanted from it in terms of its horror elements, I’m sure some will appreciate an understated ending. There are many components that I still enjoyed about this film from the setting and ambience to the characters and suspense, however, I came away from this film the same way the film ended, with a defeated yet cathartic sigh.
