Review: 'The World to Come' Haunts with an Exquisite Queer Romance

I absolutely loved "The World to Come," a queer romance and feminist Western that features outstanding acting, assured direction, and lyrical dialogue. This captivating film premiered last summer at the Venice Film Festival and recently screened at Sundance.

Directed by Mona Fastvold, and written by Ron Hansen and Jim Shepard, adapted from Shepard's short story, "The World to Come" follows two couples in 1856 living the frontier life. Katherine Waterston and Vanessa Kirby give mesmerizing performances as Abigail and Tallie, respectively, sharing a tender rapport and sensual chemistry. Both women convey the spectrum of emotions through subtle, yet powerful, acting. Abigail (Waterston) narrates the entire film through her journal entries, providing constant insight into her emotions. Writing is her salvation, and narration is poetic, hypnotic.

The film immediately plunges the audience into its bleak setting: Bare trees, snow-covered house, somber music plays. Abigail washes potatoes, which freeze since it's so cold. There's a monotonous rhythm to the procession of chores she and her husband Dyer (Casey Affleck) perform: milking cows, sewing, mending fences, chopping wood. Haunting them are memories of the death of their young daughter from diphtheria five years earlier. "I have become my grief," Abigail narrates.

From the moment Abigail and Tallie (Kirby) first see each other, we see the queer female gaze as the camera lingers on each woman; each is enthralled, carefully studying the other. Abigail is pragmatic and poetic, Tallie is bold; and as they become friends, they are seen longingly watching each other. Close-ups focus on their hands (including a gorgeous scene in which their hands inch closer together in front of a fireplace), a common motif in films about queer women.

Abigail and Tallie ignite a flirtatious intimacy, sharing an electric connection yet comfortable ease with each other. Abigail warms Tallie's cold feet; Tallie gives Abigail an atlas for her birthday, the one item she covets. Their first kiss is like a dam breaking, their affection and passion spilling forth. There's a beautiful shot as Abigail stands in the kitchen and Tallie stands on the other side of the screen, outside on the porch, framed by an open doorway. Both women are stunned and elated, enraptured by each other. Their love and companionship buoys them, giving hope and an oasis from the drudgery of their lives.

But all is not bliss as Tallie's husband Finney (Christopher Abbott) is patriarchal and abusive. He tracks whom Tallie sees, makes veiled threats, wants to control her body, and is angry she hasn't gotten pregnant yet. In contrast, Abigail's husband Dyer is quiet, calm. While bothered that Abigail excitedly wants to see Tallie more than him, he seems to acquiesce to their connection.

A feminist commentary runs through the film about autonomy and the treatment of women in society. Abigail narrates about her mother and how little things have changed, how "unwilling" girls get married, "forced to stem the sea of tribulations." Tallie and Abigail discuss motherhood and pregnancy. At an outdoor market, Abigail buys a new blue dress, wanting to look appealing for Tallie. She observes two mothers with their children. Even amidst Abigail's joy, her grief is never far away.

Through its cinematography - including its slightly narrower 1.66:1 aspect ratio - the film evokes intimacy and simultaneously highlights how the two queer women feel claustrophobically confined in their lives without each other. At times scenes cut quickly and abruptly, mirroring how Abigail and Tallie's time together doesn't unfurl endlessly but must fit between the spaces in their lives. They discuss "King Lear," and Abigail sees hope in finding happiness through imprisonment. But Tallie rejects this notion, too defiant to find solace in captivity, even with the woman she loves. In one scene, they kiss in a doorway, a metaphorical liminal space – appropriate for two queer women who don't fit in a heteronormative world.

"The World to Come" is a powerful love story. However, I'm still grappling with the ending. While emotional and moving, it hinges on a trope. My hope, as always, is that we see more queer romances on-screen and a greater diversity of queer characters and queer stories. Yet, it remains a brilliantly crafted film that continues to haunt me with its exquisite beauty.

"The World to Come" is in limited release in theaters on February 12, 2020 and will be available on VOD on March 2, 2020.