An adaptation of a short story by Jim Shepard, The World to Come meanders through Upstate New York in the mid-19th century. Mona Fastvold’s film opens with a reticent and distant Abigail (Katherine Waterson) and her equally taciturn husband, Dyer (Casey Affleck), isolated in the wake of their child’s death on a borrowed farm in the midst of an unforgiving winter. Change comes for the couple when Tallie (Vanessa Kirby) and her overbearing husband (Christopher Abbot) arrive in town. From first sight, Abigail and Tallie are drawn to the other, and slowly begin a love story narrated from the pages of Abigail’s ledger.
In the milieu of recent period dramas, The World to Come stands out with its form of narration, reminiscent of the diary entries of Gertrude Stein’s The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas. In the film, more is expressed without words than with, leading the viewers through the saccharine beginning of a love story. Abigail warms up to Tallie’s presence and that gives way to love. Their restraints, whether self-imposed or not, melt as they grow closer in the new year.
Even the sparing mentions of her days without Tallie are tinged with the giddiness of this new love and the tender images of intimate moments such as their first kiss, remain in mind as their relationship develops and stays with the viewer long after the film has ended. It’s a moment of tender affirmation followed by Abigail’s euphoria processing this newfound love breathlessly, leaning back, arms wide accepting Tallie’s love.
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Images of the two of them at each other’s side, content for hours in silent company. Long before the acknowledgement of the love between them, and lounging with unrestrained smiles as Tallie leans in to kiss Abigail. At ease with the woman she loves and comfortable to initiate this with, make this romance so promising.
Unfortunately, this sort of scene is an exception in a sea of mishandled and blurred narration. These scenes are shown through Abigail’s memories rather than narrated directly, as no words can easily express the process of falling in love, nor could those be left in a ledger easily found by others.
The majority of the film relies on a direct narration which gives the feeling of being led, or less kindly, dragged through the film. There’s too strong of a reliance on Abigail’s narration from one date to the other, which feels more and more disjointed as it progresses, along with a heavy-handed score that seeks to force emotion in the wrong moments.
It’s not that the feelings aren’t present, it’s that the intonation of the music is so overt that it creates a feeling of inauthenticity. The soundtrack has a tendency to become intrusive, filling scenes where silence would be more effective. And it comes close to drowning out the voices of the characters, making it even harder to understand the often verbose and stunted dialogue.
Ron Hansen’s script adaptation attempts to voice the internal monologue through Abigail’s ledger entries, leaving sparse dialogue to interpret the language of the era that becomes unnecessarily wordy and tedious. This causes a disconnect that is never quite resolved. However, the dialogue between Tallie and Abigail tends to be marginally freer, reflecting the freedom they have away from the constraints of their daily tasks and marriages.
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Components of The World to Come have much potential, which makes it sad to see how the story gradually squanders this. The acting is phenomenal, with burning chemistry between the two lovers.
All the components of a potentially beautiful love story are present, but the excuse of the constraint of the time period is used to avoid continuing the romance arc that is established for the two women. The film is a patchwork of affecting, well-crafted scenes, like their first kiss or Abigail imagining a future family built with their love, interspersed into a grand, meandering unknown: ultimately unable to establish a clear purpose, or unmuddled message.
While sequences with the two visibly content in love, where Abigail is far from her earlier restraint, soothe, the lack of a follow through of a well fleshed out love story and a clear purpose to the direction of the film undermine this power. The World to Come leaves the viewer longing for some point to be made of the brief love these women get to experience.
Unfortunately, a clear message is never delivered, though the fleeting moments of a lover’s union give a glimpse of potential. The characters and viewers alike are all trapped in the anxiety-laden, yet seemingly aimless direction of this film, which leaves us to wonder, what is this world to come? For a film based on memories, it’s difficult to see exactly where the purpose of the exercise lies, other than a sense of dreary hopelessness.
