A woman's consuming love forces her to bear the clone of her dead beloved. From his infancy to manhood, she faces the unavoidable complexities of her controversial decision.
Commento critico (a cura di JEANNETTE CATSOULIS, The New York Times)
No amount of therapy could fix the central characters in â€śWomb,â€ť a morally ripe science-fiction tale remodeled as shockingly inert love story. If the 20-odd seconds of blank screen squatting pointlessly amid the opening credits arenâ€™t enough warning that youâ€™re in for some seriously sluggish storytelling, then the adoption of a snail as one of the central motifs should drive the point home.
Filmed in Germany on the North Sea coast, the story plays out in an indeterminate time when cloning is apparently commonplace, even if its fruits are treated like outcasts. Itâ€™s difficult to know, because weâ€™re trapped for the duration on a windswept beach where Rebecca (Eva Green) has reunited with Tommy (Matt Smith, the latest incarnation of the Doctor in â€śDoctor Whoâ€ť), the childhood sweetheart she left a dozen years earlier. A few minutes of screen time and one road accident later, Tommy is no more, and
Rebecca has been artificially impregnated with her expired loverâ€™s tissue.
What follows is a deeply weird study of psychosexual obsession that, backed by Peter Szatmariâ€™s ravishingly salty photography, could have evolved into a fecund exploration of biological ethics. Instead weâ€™re confined to a beach shack where Rebecca and Tommy 2.0 â€” soon full grown though his mother never ages a day â€” share pregnant silences and awkward physical contact. Sheâ€™s such a cipher, and her motives so lubricious, that we want to shake her.
Unlike Jonathan Glazerâ€™s similarly themed and hugely superior â€śBirthâ€ť (2004) â€” a genuinely creepy dive into lost love and unyielding heartache â€” this stagnant drama from the Hungarian director Benedek Fliegauf fizzles. But if you have a son approaching 30 who needs a swift kick out of the nest, by all means buy him a ticket. Heâ€™ll be gone before you can say, â€śOedipus.â€ť
Secondo commento critico (a cura di La parola al film)