Critics reviews

Partridge has made an occasionally sweet movie with a consistent disturbing edge, and its unsettling nature is helped considerably by a fearless performance from Laurence, whose expressive, uncutesy face is wise beyond her years.

Despite the lead actors' superb performances, they remain a bit abstract—too much like constructs from the kind of minimalist, meaning-charged American short stories that tend to get written in graduate writers' workshops than any people you might actually meet. So "Lamb" is empathetic and untrustworthy, haunting but often unpersuasive. In the end it's hard to say what the film's point is. But it lingers in the mind.

Gary and Tommie may get hugsy, but whether he crosses the line into pedophilia is an unresolved question, at best, for the viewer. Is his behavior towards her sexual, predatory? Or is it an expression of platonic affection? Lacking the two astonishing lead performances, the film's courageous forays into relatively untapped territory might bypass credibility.

An ostensible love story, Lamb describes a peculiar platonic bond. Both David—whose father has recently passed away, and Tommie, whose parents may as well have—are depicted as lost, lonely souls, looking for any sort of human connection possible. They find it, of course, in each other. When David takes Tommie to his family's cabin in Wyoming, the trip reveals psycho-emotional volumes. Their seemingly inappropriate pairing generates a strange power—one cast over the film's audience.

Oona Laurence has been acting in movies, on TV, and on the stage since she was in single digits, even winning a Tony at age 10 for playing the title role in the musical Matilda. But she has a naturalness on camera that's rare for any actor—let alone for one who's essentially grown up in the business... In Lamb, she easily handles a difficult role, capturing the intelligence and immaturity of a young girl who impulsively sets off on an adventure and then realizes she's strayed too far from home.

Mr. Partridge, a character actor who looks like he auditions for Dermot Mulroney types, has a relaxed, pleasant presence; what he doesn't have is a grasp on the story's ugliness, its viewpoints or how his nice-guy vibe is at odds with the self-deluded exploiter he plays.

Adapted from Bonnie Nadzam's 2011 novel, Lamb aims neither to update Lolita nor to offer a father-daughter Mud; it's a kind of vehicle for its writer-director-star, Ross Partridge, whose David is likeable, good-looking, deceptively reassuring. But it succeeds as a showcase for Oona Laurence as Tommie, whose future on screen and stage is the real gift to await.

In adapting, directing, and starring in this provocative material, Partridge has set a daunting emotional task for himself, particularly once David's office flame (Jess Weixler) materializes unannounced, foregrounding the scenario's sexual dimensions. This makes Partridge's decision to lens the movie in restrained two-shots daring.

Ross Partridge's Lamb is an unwitting endurance test of indie-auteur hubris run amok. Its structure is devised to afford its actor-writer-director several Big Scenes for exercising his acting chops as the titular character and highlight the narrative's dreary take on an unlikely friendship.

Partridge navigates risky material with assurance, delicacy and a deepening sense of intimacy that can turn, without warning, into complicity: The more at ease we feel in the characters' company, the more disturbingly questionable the situation becomes. Superbly shot and movingly acted, especially by young Oona Laurence, this arthouse-ready item should prove a potent conversation-starter at festivals.