Quartile rating: 7/10 · 1 rating
On a winter's day, a woman stretches near a window then sits in a bathtub of water. She's happy. Her lover is nearby; there are close ups of her face, her pregnant belly, and his hands caressing her. She gives birth: we see the crowning of the baby's head, then the birth itself; we watch a pair of hands tie off and cut the umbilical cord. With the help of the attending hands, the mother expels the placenta. The infant, a baby girl, nurses. We return from time to time to the bath scene. By the end, dad's excited; mother and daughter rest.
Stan Brakhage's landmark short film is a foundational work of avant-garde cinema. Its cinematography is genuinely exceptional — the superimpositions, rhythmic editing, and intimate close-ups transform a home birth into a lyrical visual poem, earning a strong 4. Novelty is equally high; no other film had approached childbirth with such raw, unmediated beauty, and Brakhage's singular visual language makes it utterly distinctive. The ending, with its tender quiet resolution of mother and child resting, is emotionally satisfying though understated. Acting is essentially non-applicable (it's documentary observational footage of real people), so it sits low by default. The plot, such as it is, is a simple structural arc — anticipation, birth, aftermath — functional but not narratively complex.