A primitive punk spirit flares in Lynne Ramsay’s “Die, My Love,” a complex, heart-wrenching psychoanalytic drama starring Jennifer Lawrence as a new mother and Robert Pattinson as her husband.
In this cauldron of marital nightmare set in a dilapidated rural home in Montana, there are fires, real and imagined, and a variety of wildlife. There’s a constantly yapping dog, which the Jacksons brought home soon after the couple arrived from New York. There is a horse on the road, no time. And Grace has a tiger on her shirt. But, even more than these brute flourishes, is grace itself. In a moment early in the film, she walks around on all fours in the tall grass with a knife in her hand.
The brief description of Ramsay’s film, based on the 2012 novel by Argentine writer Ariana Harwicz, is that it is about a woman suffering from postpartum depression. But this is not absolutely correct. It’s about the strength and insistence of a woman who, like a beautiful, wild creature, is refusing to be domesticated.
This is the catchy line from “Die, My Love,” though it may be difficult to grasp convincingly in Ramsay’s intense but painfully exaggerated character study. Still, as messy and exaggerated as “Die, My Love” is, this isn’t a film that’s going to timidly focus on parenting and gender roles. There’s much to admire in Ramsay’s uncompromising and twisted portrayal of marital hell, especially in Lawrence’s courageously raw performance. The abandon with which she throws herself into this role will leave you screaming “Mom!” Enough to say.
Grace and Jackson have moved near her childhood home. Their house belonged to Jackson’s uncle before he killed himself. Jackson’s parents live nearby, and Spacek’s knowing eyes suggest that they went through something not so different a long time ago, depicting Grace’s struggle as part of a longer, Gothic American history. Immediately after going inside, the couple dance wildly before lying down naked on the floor.
That scene is an announcement of the pitch that Ramsay, the legendary Scottish filmmaker behind “Ratcatcher” and “We Need to Talk About Kevin,” is working on, and how much his stars are with him on this journey. This is the former teen idols’ first film together. But I wondered if Lawrence and Pattinson’s obvious chemistry worked against the film.
Pattinson’s Jackson is in some ways a stereotypical man and foil for Grace. He drinks Budweiser, shirks off work and is more interested in his young son or dog than in Grace. But Pattinson has always displayed a disarming resistance to male characters, which makes him less of an opposing force for Grace. As Grace’s behavior becomes more extreme, Pattinson does a lot of looking concerned. But a more traditional leading man might have been better suited for the role, and would have made their dynamics clearer.
But clarity isn’t what Ramsay is looking for either. Working from a script written with playwrights Enda Walsh and Alice Birch, Ramsay sticks firmly to Grace’s troubled perspective. The sound design, by Tim Burns and Paul Davis, is purposefully chaotic, filled with barking and children’s music playing for Grace as she wanders around the house half naked, ignoring household chores and indulging in sexual fantasies. Grace is also a writer who is not writing, so her manic mentality resonates somewhat with Jack Torrance in “The Shining”.
So, no, it’s not postpartum, and Grace clarifies it herself. She says her son is great. “Everything else is f—ed.” What comes with everything else? It’s mostly things like Grace trying to conform to the persona of a simple and restrictive mother and not so subtly. Heaven help the happy suburban moms who try to make small talk with him at the birthday party. Even the classic rock that Jackson plays in his truck irritates him. “I hate guitar,” she says.
This helps “Die, My Love” break out of the house where the film is set in an excessive, even oppressive manner. “Die, My Love” would have benefited from more scenes like this, allowing Lawrence to utilize more of his comedic talents. Instead, a live-wire performance suffocates, and the film’s ideological force makes Grace feel more oppressed than anything else.
Mubi’s release “Die, My Love” is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for sexual content, graphic nudity, language and some violent content. Running time: 118 minutes. Two and a half stars out of four.
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