Die My Love

“Grace” (Jennifer Lawrence) and boyfriend “Jackson” (Robert Pattinson) arrive at the remote Montana home that used to belong to his uncle. She’s not exactly enamoured of the place but they are so loved up that it is quickly a case of getting down to things on the wooden flooring and making themselves a bairn. Thing is, though, once motherhood beckons “Grace” begins to feel the full effects of their isolation. With “Jackson” at work, often far away, she finds herself bored and captivated by their married and motor-cycle riding neighbour “Karl” (LaKeith Stanfield). After the birth, what appears to be some post-natal trauma sets in and neither her boyfriend nor his mother “Pam” (Sissy Spacek) who has had her own troubled experiences with her now late husband (Nick Nolte) can really get to grips with her increasingly erratic, often sex-obsessed, behaviour. It doesn’t exactly help the situation that “Jackson” has no longer any interest in the sexual nature of their relationship and so a chasm is slowly but definitely developing between the pair. Is anything redeemable for them? Do they care? Do we? This film belongs to a Lawrence who is remarkably free with her performance. She portrays her character effectively, depicting senses of confusion and ennui, sexuality and desire really quite powerfully and in a fashion that is quite potently foiled by the sparing appearances of Spacek. Pattinson, though, is just about as wooden as their picket fence and here I could not quite decide if he was cast because he is not a remotely charismatic actor and because Lynne Ramsay wanted this film to be solely about the character of “Grace”; or whether he was meant to add more weight than he actually does and just isn’t very good. It identifies some elements of mental illness, but there is little context or science for us to grasp the extent to which she might be genuinely ill, or just attention seeking? If the latter, then what might have broken their relationship? It’s a smudgy film. Deliberately, I guess, with some plot lines clear, others blurred and some missing altogether - but I found that emotional ambiguity increasingly uninteresting as the plot unravels to no apparent purpose. Perhaps I just wasn’t on the same wavelength, but I didn’t really get anything from this remarkably soulless story. Sorry.

Postpartum depression is a subject that, arguably, doesn’t receive enough attention, especially outside of a clinical context. That’s why it’s somewhat surprising to see it addressed in an entertainment vehicle. It’s unfortunate, however, that it hasn’t been examined as tactfully or as effectively as it could or should have been in this disappointing new release from director Lynne Ramsay. When Jackson (Robert Pattinson) and his girlfriend, Grace (Jennifer Lawrence), move into a home left to them by his deceased uncle in rural Montana, the couple enjoys their idyllic new lifestyle. And, not long thereafter, they become the parents of a baby boy, a theoretically happy event that, regrettably, also marks the beginning of growing troubles in their relationship. Even though Grace appears to adore her son, she simultaneously becomes dissatisfied with her life as a stay-at-home mom, particularly in the decline of the duo’s once-robust and prolific sex life. Her behavior becomes erratic, unpredictable and even hostile toward Jackson and others, including acts of self-harm against herself. But what’s behind these changes? It’s as if a form of madness has begun overtaking her. And what, if anything, can be done about it? Such conditions are sometimes associated with mood changes after childbirth, but, in the case of this story, their expression goes so far off the rails that the picture becomes difficult to follow or fathom, meandering wildly and losing credibility with each passing sequence. In addition, the inclusion of bizarre, ancillary, seemingly unrelated developments, coupled with unrelenting overacting by the protagonists, makes for an utterly exhausting watch, one in which its core subject seems to be treated almost as an afterthought. Moreover, this is a project that represents a phenomenal waste of its cast; besides Pattinson and Golden Globe Award nominee Lawrence, the film recklessly squanders the talents of supporting players Sissy Spacek, Lakeith Stanfield and Nick Nolte. It’s genuinely unclear what the filmmaker was going for here, prompting viewers to wonder if they’re watching actual events or fabrications in the minds of the characters (or some indistinguishable combination of both). In that respect, this film readily calls to mind the narrative incoherence found in another of Lawrence’s efforts, “mother!” (2017) (one would like to think that she should have learned her lesson from that cinematic debacle – what should have served as a wake-up call to make better script selection decisions). What’s more, this offering features more than its fair share of gratuitous nudity, something I’m typically not prudish about but that truly starts to get out of hand in this release, particularly in its frequent and somewhat graphic depictions of self-pleasuring. Without a doubt, “Die My Love” is a serious letdown, one that should leave almost anyone associated with this production suitably depressed.