Emotional devastation is something everyone living through 2020 is too well acquainted with but Kornél Mundruczó’s tearjerking Pieces of a Woman suggests that things can always be worse. The Hungarian White God writer and director paints a tumultuous portrait of a husband and wife undergoing an incredible loss with unflinching precision, using a voyeuristic approach to nestle into their most personal, private moments and translating it to the screen in a novel, wholly disturbing manner.

The result is at once staggering, exhausting, and traumatizing, the opening act a near breathless scene that left me whirling and my cheeks tear-streaked. I was so emotionally engaged that I cannot even recall the specific filmmaking grammar used in the scene (nor will I be going back and watching it again) but despite what actually occurs, it feels like a stunning single take. One that you cannot escape or look away from no matter how bad it gets. So basically 2020 boiled down to one horrifying grief-stricken 30-minute sequence. It is incredibly unpleasant but also incredibly moving.

Though the official plot synopsis goes into how the specific tragedy of this relationship unfolds, I think knowing the plot prior to watching completely robs the film’s early moments of its suspense and jittery concern for their well-being. Try, if you can, to go into this as blind as you are able. The emotional dividends will be tenfold if you do.

Much (if not most) of the film’s power lay coiled within the exceedingly potent performance from leads Vanessa Kirby (to this point perhaps most recognizable for her vulpine turn in Mission Impossible: Fallout) and Shia LaBeouf. Kirby is almost assured a nomination come the Academy Awards (deservedly so), offering a performance of unbridled rawness that ferments into a prevailing, sour grief. As her more emotionally available and eventually turbulent partner, LaBeouf showcases his rarified talent to turn characters inside out, exposing them like a raw nerve.

Their pitch-perfect casting and honest, chafed chemistry buoys Pieces of a Woman, lifting Mundruczó’s creation up from what could be depression porn by inviting audiences to not only grieve along with the characters but dig into their psyches and hope for better days to come. The supporting cast is both equally impressive and a true wonder of inventive casting choices. Silver screen giant Ellen Burstyn shines as the prickly matriarch trying to solve problems with her checkbook; Succession alum Sarah Snook repulses as a slimy, unscrupulous lawyer; Molly Parker of Deadwood acclaim low-key steals the show as a midwife in crisis; and my guy Benny Safdie (writer-director behind Uncut Gems and Good Time, in which he also co-starred) finally gets a role in a movie he isn’t directing.

One remarked upon issue that the film struggles to overcome is the pacing. The film begins with such a nuclear bomb of an opening that viewers are almost shocked into a state of numbness for the duration of what remains. Everything that follows is easy enough to sit through by contrast, though there are still remarkable tragedies and betrayals in store. As written by Kata Wéber (in her English-language debut), life goes on after tragedy but some holes cannot be filled and so too is that the case with her script. Though Pieces of a Woman settles into a satisfying resolution for Kirby’s Martha, her arc feels complete without a flash-forward that somewhat cheapens the hard-won authenticity of the film.

CONCLUSION: As emotionally devastating a film as you are likely to find in 2020, ‘Pieces of a Woman’ starts with an emotional flash-bang that so burns viewers receptor sites for tragedy that it’s hard to feel much for the remainder of the film though a soaring pair of performances from Vanessa Kirby and Shia LaBeouf keep viewers glued to the woe.