Vanessa Kirby (The Crown) embodies the multitudes of grief in an evocative performance as a woman reeling from a devastating home birth in Pieces of a Woman, the English-language debut from Hungarian director Kornél Mundruczó and writer Kata Wéber.
Mundruczó and Wéber previously collaborated on White God (2014) and Jupiter’s Moon (2017), films that grappled with themes of trauma, loss, and personal transformation using elements of surrealism and the thriller genre. Pieces of a Woman tackles similar themes, but in a largely stripped down manner. This choice is perhaps a result of Mundruczó and Wéber’s personal connection to the story which was, in part, inspired by their experience of losing their child through miscarriage.
The film opens with Sean (Shia LaBeouf) leaving his worksite where he’s part of a crew building a bridge in an unnamed city in Massachusetts, the construction of which is a significant if unsubtle theme throughout the film. Static wide shots of the bridge-building process over the span of a year mark each chapter of the film and reflect the characters’ transformations over time.
The first few minutes establish the relationship between expecting parents, blue-collar Sean and business executive Martha (Kirby), and introduce Martha’s posh mother, Elizabeth (Ellen Burstyn) as a domineering and disapproving force in their lives.
All too quickly, the promise of the tragic premise awaits us. Sean and a heavily pregnant Martha call their midwife after Martha experiences contractions and her water breaks. Unfortunately, their midwife is in the midst of another delivery and sends a replacement, Eva Woodward (Molly Parker). This is the first of many complications that arise over the twenty-two minute one-take home birth scene that ends in devastation.
The central focus of the film, the one-take scene is a largely tense experience that forces the viewer to stay with the characters through every moment, without the relief or momentary break of a cut. The scene’s real-time presentation also becomes significant towards the end of the film when we must recall precise details of the birth during a trial. Although the technique has been used before, the long take here is a technical marvel, not only for the way it captures the entirety of a birth in one take but also because it’s an impressive feat on the part of the actors, Vanessa Kirby in particular.
At times, we become acutely and impatiently aware of the lengthy nature of this sequence, largely due to the fact that by virtue of the film’s premise, we anticipate the scene’s outcome and are anxious about its arrival. However, the actors always manage to pull us back into the experience through the vibrance and realism of their performances. Kirby’s preparation for the role, which involved shadowing midwives at a hospital and witnessing a birth, allows her to bring authentic notes to the performance.
The film is strongest when following Martha through the complexities of her grief and behaviour, but it loses focus and alternately slips into melodrama and banality, presenting a somewhat disjointed narrative. A side story with Martha’s cousin is too convenient to feel genuine. Sean’s grief is largely presented through a clichéd lens as he spirals, making all the expected choices of self-destructive behaviour, and we simply don’t connect with him the way we do with Martha. There is also an element of added discomfort watching some of LaBeouf’s scenes, given the recent allegations against him.
A second use of a long take, this time at Martha’s mother’s house, is much less effective and loses the audience in its banality just before a dramatic climax between Martha and her mother, weakening the moment’s impact and making it feel somewhat contrived despite the emotional performances from Kirby and Burstyn. The film shifts focus again towards the end, a sidelined story about a trial against the midwife Eva suddenly taking centre stage in a somewhat disingenuous and melodramatic manner that contributes to the disjointed nature of the narrative.
Mundruczó and Wéber first produced this story as a theatrical play comprised of three scenes: the birth, the dinner at the mother’s house, and the trial. Those three scenes also take precedence in the film, but the filler in between often fails to provide for a seamless narrative flow. The intimate story about the parents’ grief feels distinct from the court case story, creating an awkward transition between the two. Perhaps the play’s structure worked more effectively, leaving room for the audience to bridge the gaps between the three scenes themselves. As it stands in the film, the narrative shifts compete rather than complement.
Pieces of a Woman provides an emotional look at one couple’s heartbreak in the fallout from a tragic birth experience, capturing the central scene with realism and gravitas. However, the film struggles to weave its different narratives together and sometimes leans too heavily into melodrama to feel genuine. Fortunately, Ellen Burstyn and Vanessa Kirby shine in their performances. Kirby in particular offers a beautifully raw and multi-faceted approach to grief that elevates the film beyond mediocrity.
Score: B-
© 2021. UniversalCinema Mag.