Let's get this out of the way first: If you're expecting a robustly thrilling or impactful drama, this is not the movie for you. It is pointedly quiet, nearly minimalist in story and construction alike, and direly muted and practically withholding. Only the most patient, open-minded viewers, keen on features of the sort that invite thoughtful analysis and interpretation, are likely to find 'Womb' palatable.
With that caveat out of the way:
A dash of sci-fi and a mountain of arthouse sophistication make for one very curious movie. Max Richter's beautiful, serene, yet pensive score is employed very sparingly; long stretches of the runtime transpire with little or no dialogue, or even perceptible sound; years may pass in nothing more than the cut from one shot to the next. In screenplay and direction alike, Benedek Fliegauf meticulously arranges countless shots and scenes that are fetching, if not downright gorgeous to see - wonderful filming locations help, to that end. Moreover, in the heavy emphasis on Rebecca and Tommy - and especially in wide shots that center them - the artful emptiness and solitude serves to accentuate themes of prejudice, isolation, guilt, and more.
Above all, 'Womb' is a very subdued, esoteric rumination on love, and all the forms it can take - so overwhelmingly understated in that slant as to nearly confound. With this in mind, in screenplay and direction alike, Fliegauf focuses heavily on scene writing and characters. Like Richter's music, what plot the film offers is slight, little more than a bare-bones framework in which for the actors to play. And on that note: The supporting cast is swell - Hannah Murray, Lesley Manville, and more - ably and believably bringing their characters to life to round out the story. Matt Smith, more prominent as direct support, realizes Tommy with astonishing liveliness and force of personality as the character somewhat provides a foil to the protagonist in his innocence, hope, and unrestrained expression. Yet Eva Green is the star by all means, demonstrating exquisite poise and nuanced range as Rebecca. Within her intense gaze and careful posture is contained a maelstrom of varied emotions, a constant deliberation on everything Rebecca has been and has done. Hers especially is a very complex role, and Green is more than capable of containing multitudes even just within her eyes. Despite or perhaps even in light of all the subtlety in the movie, it's a true joy to watch her here.
The movie begins and ends with only the most hushed of tones - literally and figuratively. Any viewer not specifically attuned to the character drama and the unspoken turmoil may well find the feature wholly bereft; 'Womb' is by all means for a select audience. Even at that, I don't think it's entirely perfect. It's very much worth noting a sharp incongruity represented in Eva Green: Many years pass in the narrative from beginning to end; by all rights, adult Rebecca ages something like 20 years in the course of the story. Yet Green's appearance never changes; there is no indication in countenance or mannerism that the character has aged one day. This seems like much too glaring a discrepancy to be an accidental oversight. Perhaps Rebecca's agelessness is itself intended to be emblematic of a Big Idea - arguably the constancy, youthful origin, and expression of her love for Tommy, or maybe of the universality of Love at large. Even if so, the sheer grandiosity of the symbolism is a little overt, and thusly out of alignment with the rest of the picture - and more than that, the strain on our suspension of disbelief is unfortunate.
Ultimately, however, what subjective difficulties may present do not meaningfully detract from the experience. If my words seem few, and vague, consider that an extension of what the feature gives us; this is really a title you just need to see and judge for yourself. A few instances of distinct boisterousness aside, the tack here is unequivocally soft and thoughtful - a calculated declination of discretely active drama that would ingratiate the feature to more viewers. Fliegauf wants us to ponder, and then ponder some more - and with the utmost excellence of his writing, of his keen eye and guiding hand as a filmmaker, and of his cast, he makes it (relatively) easy. It's uniquely absorbing, and highly satisfying; though recommendable to only a niche audience, I'm so pleased with the picture that I think this is well worth seeking out. The style of storytelling and moviemaking that 'Womb' represents will be a turn-off for many, yet for anyone receptive to what the film has to offer, this is utterly fantastic.
