The two films today deal with ‘strange births’. Army of Thieves recounts the ‘birth’ of a Master safe cracker - the Sebastian of Army of the Dead. While Lamb, is one bizarre horror film from Iceland.
Army of Thieves (Netflix USA) - If you’re one of the countless fans of Zack Snyder’s Las Vegas zombie-based Army of the Dead, which dropped on this streaming platform earlier this year, and found the German safecracker, Sebastian, to be one of the more interesting characters of the film - then this one is made-to-order for you. It’s a prequel, back-story of Sebastian, and gives us a full film that has him at the center of the narrative. It’s part of the Zack Snyder contract with Netflix, and it’s directed by and stars Matthias Shweighöfer, who plays Sebastian. In terms of feel, think of a mash-up of Soderbergh and Tarantino, but with the emphasis on humor and the slightly off character of Sebastian. In fact, one of the disarming aspects of the Sebastian persona was how he was so gender-unspecific, and that’s highlighted here.
It starts off with Sebastian stuck in a boring, humdrum 9 to 5 job at the local Potsdam credit union, where he daydreams of being an expert safecracker, and posts blogs of his affinity to the dubious occupation. The opportunity to show his mettle happens when an anonymous invite to join an underground safe-cracking competition is e-mailed to him. From there, it’s just a hop, skip, and jump to being part of a criminal gang that’s out for posterity, and rob the four legendary Wagner-built safes that were inspired by the music of the composer Wagner. There’s adventure, action, an awkward romance, and a police commissioner bent on revenge for what the gang had done to him previously. It’s all fun and games, and there’s brisk editing and action - if anything, it goes by quickly and feels a tad too light and frothy.
Lamb (Video on Demand) - This one comes to us from Iceland, and the most recognizable face we’ll encounter is that of Noomi Rapace, who starred in the original Swedish Dragon Tattoo films. Here, she’s one half of a couple who live in the remote countryside of Iceland, tending to sheep, horses, and their farmstead. When we meet the couple, it’s obvious that they’re in deep mourning and estrangement, more than 10 minutes pass before even a word is spoken between the husband and wife. And when they attend to the birthing of the sheep, it’s one particular troubled delivery that has them taking the lamb out of the barn and bringing it home to be tended to. Why exactly this is done becomes the gist of this rather disturbing, unsettling film.
The film talks of bereavement, of family and parenting, of identity and asserting one’s rights to the point of ‘cancelling’ those who oppose. The film also talks about human nature vs. animal nature; and it doesn’t take long for the film to go down a ‘rabbit hole’ of weirdness, asking us to suspend disbelief. It’s this second half of the film, with the entry of the husband’s brother, that turns this idyllic ‘freak show’, into something far more deadly and disturbing. Throughout, it’s Rapace stoic expression and solid acting that clues us in on how there’s something deeper being said by the filmmakers in spite of the horror roots of this film. As for the CGI employed in this film, it truly works in a bizarre way; but approach this Valdimar Jóhannsson film at your own risk, as it definitely isn’t your regular horror film, and deftly mixes psychodrama into the equation.