Die My Love

The most sympathetic character can’t walk or talk in Die My Love, which is more than just a provocative title.

This gritty and sexually charged romantic drama from Scottish director Lynne Ramsay (We Need to Talk About Kevin) leverages a ferocious performance by Jennifer Lawrence into a harrowing depiction of a suffocating maternal nightmare.

With an infant caught in the middle, the film digs beneath dysfunctional family cliches to capture a raw and honest look at parental anxieties and mental illness without easy answers.

The story is set in Montana, where Grace (Jennifer Lawrence) relocate from the big city into an old rural house with her husband, Jackson (Robert Pattinson), so she can pursue her writing career while they raise their baby.

After giving birth, however, their idyllic setup triggers a downward spiral as Grace begins showing symptoms of postpartum depression. Jackson gets a job and then a small dog, whose constant yapping is hardly endearing.

As she feels more constricted, Grace’s free-spirited impulses too often result in self-destructive behaviors. Jackson remains supportive if perplexed at how he can help, just like her mother (Sissy Spacek).

“I’m stuck between wanting to do something and not wanting to do anything at all,” Grace explains cryptically prior to another outburst at a party.

Meanwhile, her sexual appetite only intensifies, prompting suspicion about Jackson and attraction toward a mysterious biker (LaKeith Stanfield).

Lawrence fully inhabits her role, communicating as much through facial expressions and body language as verbal dialogue as a woman whose playful silliness masks crippling insecurities. She develops hard-earned empathy despite Grace’s poor choices, exacerbated by the superficial or self-absorbed people around her.

The nonlinear screenplay offers a nuanced exploration of isolation, depression, and uncertainty that doesn’t wallow in her misery or turn gratuitously maudlin. The detours into surreal weirdness don’t always connect, especially during an uneven and ambiguous middle stretch.

However, Ramsay enables us to viscerally share Grace’s discomfort with the film’s bleak worldview and aesthetics, such as a boxy aspect ratio that enhances the sense of intimacy and therefore tension as the story progresses.

Considering its psychological edges, Die My Love doesn’t add up to much in the end. But it still carries a haunting resonance.

Rated R, 118 minutes.