Maternity isn’t always a rosy experience. In fact, it can turn blood-red. And the topic of a young mother slipping into insanity is not an uncommon one in 21st-century cinema. The desperate measures to which the women resort vary. In the Lars Von Trier’s The Antichrist (2009), the unnamed mother (Charlotte Gainsbourg) self-mutilates. In Mary Bronstein’s If I Has Legs I’d Kick You, Linda (Rose Byrne) cannot bear to look her little girl in the face (the interpretation earned the the Australian actress the Silver Bear for Best Leading Performance this year at the Berlinale). In Lynne Ramsay’s Die, My Love, Grace (played by a swivel-eyed Jennifer Lawrence) is prepared to destroy just about anything that casually crosses her path, living or inanimate. The only exception is her little baby Harry, whom Grace claims to love above everything else. The story takes place in the remote flatlands of the United States, with country music hillbillies making an occasional appearance.
It all starts out well. Grace and her newly-wed husband – the patronising and complacent Jackson (Robert Pattinson) – move to a large country house that he inherited from his uncle. The poor old relative committed suicide by shooting himself in the butt. “The place is much bigger than I thought, because my uncle was a hoarder”, Jackson notes. The newly-web engage in wild sex in just about every corner of their yet-to-be-furnished new abode. The intense connection begins to disintegrate almost immediately after the initial excitement. Grace becomes easily jaded. Jackson asks: “do I bore you?”, to which she promptly replies: “the universe bores me”. Her answer comes to epitomise her attitude towards life. She hates the yappy dog that Jackson adopted, chastises a friendly store attendant for asking whether the baby had a name, terrifies Jackson’s loving and understanding mother Pam (a terrific Sissy Spacek) with a psychotic look permanently printed on her face, and embarrasses her husband by jumping in her underwear in front of the children during a family party.
While a lot more composed, Jack isn’t particularly supportive of his wife. He refuses to switch off a mere song that annoying her, and he forces her into a car ride so that they can talk “in peace” (nevermind the incessantly barking in the backseat). Their sex chemistry evaporates. Grace’s aggressive behaviour turns the male off. She finds condoms in his car, and thus begins suspecting that he has an extramarital affair. He accuses him of being “impotent” and a “faggot”.
Unsurprisingly, their sex life hits rock bottom, and this has a major psychological impact on Grace. A satisfied libido becomes a pre-condition for a functional motherhood. Her sexual frustration morphs into personal degradation, and yet more violence. Linda bangs her head against the mirror and flies through the glass door. As a results of her violent behaviour, she’s often covered in bruises. He thrashes her mother-in-law’s bathroom and nearly crashes the family car. A hapless horse barely survives the accident. Nudity is a weapon – Grace is always prepared to use her naked body to shock and also to intimidate. Maybe she is even prepared to kill – just as the film title suggests.
The movie boasts a very eclectic and loud soundtrack, featuring pop singer Toni Basil, country artist John Prine, British indie act Cocteau Twins and a very strange rendition of Joy Division’s Love Will Tear Us Apart. These disparate tunes is played very loud, blasting multiple speakers. This is combined with repeated close-ups (particularly of Grace’s angry and bloodied face) in order to create an intense viewing experience, and a punch-on-the-face type of comment of failed motherhood. It partly works. Just don’t expect authenticity. This is a movie mpre concerned with the small and peculiar signs of insanity, and it opts to represent them is exaggerated format. Film tropes above theatrics.
The problems with Die, My Love relates to excessive ambition and didacticism,. In a very brief sequence, a therapist explains to Grace that her problems are rooted in a deep-seated feeling of abandonment because her parents died in a plane crash when she was aged just 10. This comment adds an unnecessary touch of literalism to the proceedings. A clumsy grand finale injects the story up with lame and unwarranted symbolism (such as towering flames). All in all, a good film that could have done with a little trimming, toning-down and maybe turning down the volume. Scottish filmmaker Lynne Ramsay tries to evangelise and impress viewers a little too hard.
Die, My Love premiered in the Official Competition of the 78th Festival de Cannes, when this piece was originally written. Also showing in San Sebastian, and at the BFI London Film Festival. In cinemas on Friday, November 7th.
