Lynne Ramsay last participated in competition in Cannes in 2017 with the phenomenal You Were Never Here. This year, Ramsay returns to the Croisette with Die, My Love, based on the novel of the same name by Ariana Harwicz and adapted by Ramsay with Enda Walsh and Alice Birch. Although the action is transposed from France to rural Montana, Ramsay sticks close to the source, which is an unflinching and unsentimental depiction of motherhood, sexual desire and post-partum psychosis.
Jennnifer Lawrence is Grace, a writer, who lives with Jackson (Robert Pattinson). They decide to move into his dead Uncle Frank’s home – ‘I lost a tooth on this porch’ – just a short distance from where he grew up and where his parents still live. Ramsay dashes through time in the opening couple of scenes: one minute the horny couple are having hot and slightly violent sex, the next Grace is hugely pregnant. The film flits back and forth between past and present: in one scene the baby is six months old and then the film backtracks to Thanksgiving, where Grace heavily pregnant. Jackson’s dad Harry (Nick Nolte) is in the kitchen, alone and confused while the rest of the family gather in the dining room.
Harry’s death comes shortly before the birth of Grace and Jackson’s baby. Parallels between the madness – or at least the unhinging – of grief and post-natal depression are made. Jackson’s mother Pam (an extremely sympathetic Sissy Spacek) and Grace both losing the plot, albeit to different degrees. As Grace’s psychosis escalates, so does Pam’s grief-stricken sleepwalking. In one scene, both women are seen wandering in the moonlight, one wielding a rifle, the other a knife, both in their nighties.
The threat of violence and killing – or at least the fantasy of it – pervades the film. Much of the action takes place at night, adding to the horror element and also to the dreamlike (or nightmarish) sense of surreal. A motorcyclist rides back and forth past the house, occasionally dismounting and walking through the fields in his gear and helmet like a leather-clad alien. This mysterious figure turns out to be a neighbour (LaKeith Stanfield). Or we think he is. He could just as easily be a figment of Grace’s pent-up sexual imagination until it’s clear he isn’t. This blurring of what might be real and what is merely Grace’s imagination is discombobulating, but with all this time travelling and shape shifting, Ramsay provides a horrible glimpse into a psychotic’s mind: if we are exasperated or baffled by what’s on the screen, imagine what it’s like being in Grace’s head.
Nature abounds and is portentous. Like Darren Aronofsky’s Mother!, which also starred Lawrence, the story is bookended by flames, in this case a forest wildfire, perhaps a representation of the uncontrollable instincts that engulf Grace and those around her. Blood, piss and mother’s milk all make an appearance. A wild black stallion appears – again, it’s initially unclear whether this animal is real or imagined, but there’s no reason why it could not be both. Flowers are everywhere, in the fields or in vases, or depicted on wallpaper or dressing gowns or tablecloths. A stag’s head hangs above the fireplace in Jackson’s parental living room, while Jackson’s dog is a constantly barking presence. In one foreboding forest scene, Grace walks with her baby as the delightful Little April Shower from Bambi plays.
In fact, music carries the story along throughout. Ramsay also wrote some of the original score, as well as singing her own beautiful version of Joy Division’s Love Will Tear Us Apart over the end credits. John Prine and Iris DeMent’s In Spite of Ourselves plays at the couple’s wedding. And when Jackson collects Grace from hospital, David Bowie’s Kooks gets them singing in unison.
It is unclear what the title refers to – a real death, the death of love, the death of a dream? Ramsay doesn’t let on and the audience is bamboozled and perplexed. Whilst Pattinson offers excellent support as the often absent, frequently useless but ultimately committed husband, this is really Lawrence’s film. She’s in every scene and everything that takes place is from Grace’s point of view. She carries it with aplomb and it’s great to see her in such a strong role. This film won’t be for everyone, and it makes for tough viewing (and occasionally even tougher listening – that bloody dog!), but thanks to Ramsay’s deft touch and Lawrence’s powerful performance it’s worth a little pain and suffering.
