‘Die My Love’ Review: Jennifer Lawrence Spirals Into Psychosis While Robert Pattinson Plunges Into Despair in Lynne Ramsay’s Jarring Character Study

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Lynne Ramsay consistently creates films that challenge viewers, rather than offering simple solutions or comfort. Her intense psychological dramas refuse to provide easy answers for the complex issues surrounding her characters’ troubled lives. In her latest film, “Die My Love“, Ramsay continues this trend, as Jennifer Lawrence delivers a raw and uninhibited performance that moves between unsettling reality and surreal fantasy, making it difficult to distinguish between the two. Lawrence plays a woman who moves to rural America, where she finds herself trapped by marriage, motherhood, and domestic responsibilities, which slowly erode her mental stability.

In their adaptation, screenwriters Enda Walsh, Ramsay, and Alice Burch shift Ariana Marwicz’s Lynchian 2012 novel from the French countryside to another location. However, they maintain the intense concentration on a woman wrestling with her inner struggles as she becomes progressively more secluded amidst heightened feelings of isolation, whether she is by herself or in a crowd.

Or, slightly shorter:

In their screenplay adaptation, Enda Walsh, Ramsay, and Alice Burch move Ariana Marwicz’s Lynchian 2012 novel from the French countryside, but they keep its intense focus on a woman battling her demons in an increasingly isolating state, regardless of whether she is alone or surrounded by others.

Lawrence plays opposite Robert Pattinson as Grace and Jackson, a duo who decide to move from bustling New York to a secluded location surrounded by tall trees and prairie grasslands. Jackson’s family hails from this area, with his mother, Pam (Sissy Spacek), and his eccentric father, Henry (Nick Nolte), residing nearby. Jackson has inherited a roomy, weather-worn house from his late uncle, who took his life in an unusual manner that holds no relevance to the plot.

In a boxy 4:3 format, cinematographer Seamus McGarvey (known for his work on Ramsay’s “We Need To Talk About Kevin”) captures the opening scene using a fixed-camera medium shot that is particularly impactful. This shot follows the couple as they enter the house and move in and out of the frame, passing through various rooms as they come and go.

Jackson informs Grace that they live in a secluded area, allowing her to play music as loudly as desired. Excited by this freedom, she increases the volume significantly, and their energy escalates to the point where they both end up passionately making love on the floor. It’s made clear from the outset that Grace has an immense sexual desire.

As their baby arrives, there seems to be a noticeable decrease in the intensity of their love for each other within the couple. This unsettles Grace, who behaves strangely, often acting like a panther in the yard and lying on her back with one hand inside her pants while casting a disinterested gaze at Jackson and their child on the porch. She neglects household chores and finds herself fantasizing about, or perhaps acting upon, sexual desires for a charismatic biker (played by LaKeith Stanfield), who frequently rides past their house and occasionally loops back to catch another glimpse of her.

Ramsay scrambles the sequence of events without a clear purpose, moving from after the baby’s birth to Grace’s pregnancy (it seems plausible that she might be pregnant with another child). Pam, accompanied by Jackson’s chatty aunties, drop by and spend time discussing motherhood. Grace remains unengaged, but is kind and tolerant towards Harry, who occasionally regains consciousness. A storyline about Pam walking in her sleep, like many stories here, leads to no conclusion.

Initially, the first part of the extended movie feels quite sluggish as Grace’s actions grow progressively strange, and she begins to suspect that Jackson is unfaithful during his work hours. Her unhappiness becomes evident through her rude exchanges with a talkative convenience store clerk and several ladies at a gathering, where she mortifies Jackson by stripping down in the living room and then diving into a pool filled with children while wearing minimal clothing.

I’ve found myself echoing the sentiment that many new parents experience a bit of “loopy” behavior in their first year with a baby. However, my actions have veered far beyond mere looseness. For instance, I once accidentally ran through a glass door and another time, I unintentionally damaged our bathroom. To alleviate the tension, Jackson brought home a dog, but it turned out to be a misstep as its constant barking and whining only added to our stress, especially since Grace could access a shotgun. During a car ride, Jackson tried discussing our issues, which unfortunately led to an accident. Later, I admitted that it had been over two-and-a-half months since we last shared intimacy, and when Jackson struggled to respond as I expected, I lashed out verbally.

Postpartum depression might be the cause of Grace’s psychological collapse, but it appears that her bond with the child is intact. However, it’s her strained relationship with her spouse that seems to be the issue.

Lawrence truly delves into her character in a challenging, high-energy performance, always maintaining an intriguing screen presence. However, Ramsay’s penchant for harsh characters and his reluctance towards emotional depth, which are commendable traits in a filmography that disrupts the ordinary with startling intensity and terror, tend to keep Grace at arm’s length. In essence, she is like a caged wild beast – her growls, attempts to escape, or even private moments can hold our attention for a while, but not forever.

It’s more heartfelt to connect with Jackson, portrayed by Pattinson with compassion and a poignant air of forgiveness as he sinks into despair. Proposing to Grace at her most unhinged moment – which is quite a surprising move – is an even greater blunder than the wedding with the drunken dog, considering that such impulsive nuptials often lead people to cast off their reservations. Or whatever inhibitions Grace may still have left.

A spell at a psychiatric institution saves the film from portraying Grace as a continuous, exhausting manifestation of her bipolar disorder. A heartwarming moment where Grace and Jackson harmonize to David Bowie’s “Kooks” in their car signifies a couple who truly cherish each other amidst their stressed marriage. Fittingly, Ramsay sings Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart” during the closing credits, reflecting the complex emotions binding Grace and Jackson together.

Despite certain imperfections, possibly stemming from a hasty final post-production phase to meet the Cannes deadline, the final part of the film has a retrospective influence on everything that preceded it. It changes “Die My Love” (the title comma is dropped from the novel) from a one-man self-destructive performance into a contemplative analysis of a complex relationship and the empathy and tolerance it demands.

Towards the climax, a glimpse of a raging forest fire, initially shown at the beginning, reappears more prominently, symbolizing one character’s desperate yearning for freedom and another’s reluctant acceptance of her wild passions. Ramsay’s movie may be challenging to appreciate, but this powerful visual element imbues it with such a profound intensity that it effectively unifies the otherwise complex narrative.

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2025-05-18 02:24