Pieces of a Woman (2021) Dir. Kornél Mundruczó
It’s rare to find a film of such contrasting halves. Following the fallout between a Boston couple Martha and Sean (two excellent performances by Vanessa Kirby and Shia LaBeouf) after the death of their new-born daughter, Pieces of a Woman starts strong but quickly falls away into melodramatic nonsense.
The opening half hour follows Martha as she goes into labour. It’s a highly affective scene, with sweeping camera movements and strong, naturalistic acting from the two leads. Director Kornél Mundruczó and writer Kata Wéber refuse to flinch away from the uncomfortable realities of childbirth, or the fear that comes with it.
Taken out of context from the rest of the film, it’s one of the strongest pieces of work Netflix has ever produced. Containing all the raw emotion and tenderness that a five-star drama should include.
How strange that it should fall apart so completely then. Quickly the film starts to rely on heavy-handed allegories. Sean works on a bridge-building crew, literally bringing people closer together as his own relationship shows the strain of such a traumatic event. Even a wholly unnecessary conversation about The White Stripes is beaten into shape to try and represent the couple in some way.
Where the dialogue had previously felt off-the-cuff and natural, it’s now forced around cliches, with exposition galore to push the characters in certain directions. Grief does strange things to people and it’s not that the actions are necessarily out of character, but in a two-hour film the progression still feels rushed.
Even worse, the misconduct court case (which a large part of the film revolves around) is farcically presented. It’s hard to believe that legal proceedings would be handled in such a way, a final nail in the coffin for a film that started so strong.
There’s also the elephant in the room. The allegations against Shia LaBeouf (made last December by his ex-partner FKA Twigs). It’s hard not to find one particular scene in Pieces of a Woman deeply uncomfortable because of this.
Mundruczó and Wéber are a deeply talented partnership, given access to the almost unlimited Netflix coffers and provided with a cast brimming with talent. Ellen Burstyn is wonderful as Martha’s disapproving mother. Yet this is European cinema via Hollywood, with all the trappings that come with that.
The subtleties have been amplified and made melodramatic. Even the score is designed to tell you exactly how to feel at which point. This feels like a great idea dumbed down; a move that is more offensive because of its sensitive subject matter.
★★
Matthew Tilt
Twitter @Matthew_Tilt