Noomi Rapace | Bouquets & Brickbats

15/12/21

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Hear that rustling noise?

It’s the sound of many tourists frantically crossing ‘a visit to Iceland’ off their bucket lists. It’s not that the place isn’t geographically stunning. In Lamb, Eli Arenson’s cinematography shows it in all its misty splendour. But in Valdemar Jóhannsson’s debut feature it seems a dark and menacing place, particularly in the remote part of the countryside where a married couple ply a lonely trade as sheep farmers.

It’s lambing season and Maria (Noomi Rapace) and Ingvar (Hilmir Snær Guõnason) are literally working around the clock, assisting pregnant sheep with the messy process of giving birth, something which is shown in considerable detail. And then one particular lamb is born and there is something about this one – something that spurs the couple to take it into their house, to feed it bottled milk and even to give it a name – Ada. It would be criminal to reveal any more than that, but suffice to say that Jóhannsson cunningly holds back on any explanation for quite some time. When the truth is finally revealed, it hits me like a sucker-punch to the gut and I find myself intrigued.

The sheep farmers’ idyll is rudely interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Ingvar’s younger brother, Pétur (Björn Hlynur Haradldsson), a former pop star turned full time wastrel. It’s clear from his first appearance that he and Maria have some history together, which makes things awkward. But what is Pétur going to make of the new addition to the family, particularly when he learns of the lengths that Maria has gone to in order to ensure she has no rivals for Ada’s affection?

Lamb lets the central couple’s backstory emerge at a leisurely pace and, though it skimps on detail, there’s enough for me to fill in the gaps. It’s rather like having just enough pieces of a jigsaw to reveal the outline of something distinctly unsettling.

This is a very unusual film to say the least. It plays rather like a contemporary fairy tale, full of forbidding imagery and, at times, almost unbearable suspense. I’ve never seen anything quite like it before . As the story unfolds, I find myself formulating various possible resolutions, but there’s no way I could guess at the direction in which Jóhannsson and co-writer, Sjón are ultimately heading.

4.5 stars

Philip Caveney

16/11/14

Based on a short story by Denis Lehane, The Drop is a slow-burning crime drama that revolves around a seedy bar in Brooklyn. Here, Bob Saginowski (Tom Hardy) serves the drinks, under the watchful eye of his cousin Marv (James Gandolphini in his final screen role.) The bar is a regular ‘drop’ for the Chechnyan gang lords who actually own the place, somewhere to deposit illicit money generated by drugs, prostitution, protection rackets… you name it. Over the years, Marv and Bob have learned that it’s safer to just go along with things, rather than bringing the wrath of their employers down on their heads. But when Bob chances upon a badly beaten puppy in a litter bin belonging to Nadia (Noomi Rapace) things get a little more complicated – she is the ex girlfriend of Eric Deeds (Matthias Schoenearts) the puppy’s owner and a self-professed killer. It soon becomes clear that Deeds wants his dog (and Nadia) back – he doesn’t seem to make much distinction between the two of them. Then, an armed robbery at the bar relieves the ‘owners’ of $5,000 and it’s inevitable that the Chechnyans are going to want their money back…

Hardy is terrific in the lead role. He seems to be channeling Brando’s memorable turn as boxer Terry Molloy in On The Waterfront, delivering a hugely appealing character that seems as helpless as he is vulnerable. But in Lehane’s world, still waters run deep and there are a couple of twists in the narrative that are sure to take you by surprise. Gandolphini bows out in style, depicting a man who is impelled towards crime, not because of greed but by personal circumstance. This movie shows a side of America that we rarely see on film, an unabashedly blue collar world of grime, debt and criminal corruption. Though it takes its time to reveal the whole story, there’s a constant simmering threat of violence hanging over everything that happens and the conclusion, when it finally arrives, is brutal and shattering.

While in no way a ‘big’ movie, The Drop has a confident, engrossing narrative and is yet another notch in Hardy’s chameleon-like ability to portray characters from all continents and all walks of life. And it serves as a fine farewell for James Gandolphini, to whom the film is respectfully dedicated.

3.9 stars

Philip Caveney