Lamb
Written by Andreas Babiolakis
We’re reviewing one horror film per day for Halloween! Request a film to be reviewed here.
Right off the bat, I want to clarify that this isn’t really a straight up horror film. I feel like the marketing behind Lamb has stymied the film of the true beauty it exudes, especially if you go in expecting something much more damning. What I will say is that Valdimar Jóhannsson’s film is a powerful statement of a vegan nature, in the kind of way that Georges Franju’s Blood of the Beasts is meant to connect with audience and convince them to not eat meat. With Jóhannsson is Icelandic poetry legend Sjón, and you can guess that the bulk of the subliminal commentary stems right from his writing. See, if the film was promoted as a project that he worked on, it would be blatantly obvious that Lamb would be much more nuanced and delicate than what most of us were expecting, I assume. It’s also great to finally see Noomi Rapace taking on a role this interesting. I’ve been so eager to see more of her straight-up dramatic chops, maybe even in an arthouse or daring film, ever since The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and its sequels; we got a bit of this wish from Passion (which I will defend as a misunderstood and underrated satire), but we haven’t seen Rapace going this all-in emotionally (sparing the amazing work she does as an action star, mind you) in quite some time. It’s a nice change of pace, and I’m hoping that we see more of this side of the Swedish star.
Without giving too much away, Lamb was on route to being easily one of the greatest films of the year. This is because it is actually an achingly beautiful picture with a major purpose: to highlight what it feels like to be a farm animal. We start off with a focus on two farmers who specialize in the birthing and slaughtering of sheep. You see a number of close-ups of petrified ewes and rams squashed together, awaiting their demise. We won’t see them for the entire film, but they are at the start to make a statement. These images won’t leave your head, nor will the tagging of the sheeps’ ears, and the other farming practices. We quickly get into the premise after a few lambs are delivered: one lamb is part human. The farmers, of whom are still grieving their own losses, take in this infant as their own, and thus starts a truthfully sincere fable. Having a sheep-human baby hybrid may be so strange, but the film really has its heart in the right place. It’s by the climax that you see what Lamb’s truest intentions are: you are meant to get comfortable, connect with this family, and then see loved ones face their worst nightmares. We are the sheep. We are trapped in these pens together, defenseless, and unable to change the outcomes of separation or demise. Having humans here just makes these connections stronger with more audience members (precisely Lamb’s focus, I’d say).
At its best, Lamb is actually a stunningly poetic achievement.
What holds Lamb back a bit is how spacious it is. It feels like some moments don’t fit into this puzzle quite as nicely as they should, especially within its fable structure. Sometimes it lingers. Sometimes it tosses in other elements or statements that don’t really blend in as well as they should. These don’t ruin Lamb, but they do turn a concise and power fable into a bit of a story that carries on (we all have that relative that doesn’t know how to keep to just the essentials of their stories). I’ve read some thoughts that Lamb could have been a sensational short (or even a half hour shorter), and I fully agree. In fact, it could have been the film of 2021 if it was trimmed just a little bit. At least it is still a great film of 2021, and one that I recommend even just seeing (unless the plot of a human-sheep baby is just too much for you). Maybe I will grow to like Lamb even more in due time. Perhaps we all will. For now, my initial response is that Lamb is much more moving than I expected, but just a decision or two away from being a fully realized masterwork of the year (but, hey, at least it’s still strong enough to stick with you).
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.