When one thinks of a “chick flick”, the first thing to cross their mind might not be bloody lesbians, but this film is doing its best to toss its hat into the ring. Co-written and directed by Rose Glass, “Love Lies Bleeding” is another jewel in the crown of a director whose interest in psychological thriller has become a staple in the indie and queer communities for its unique take on what it means to be a “Scream Queen”. “Love Lies Bleeding” is a romantic thriller co-written by Glass and Weronika Tofilska that explores the goings-on of a rural New Mexican town in 1989 with a cast of colorful and morally-questionable characters.
Lou (Kristen Stewart) is a reclusive and awkward lesbian that manages a dingy and aged gym in a very out-of-the-way and dusty town. She has no patience for anyone, nor anything, including a young woman named Daisy (Anna Baryshnikov) who is pushy and over-friendly, but seemingly harmless. Lou’s night gets soured, though, as FBI agents who patronize her gym rub salt on the proverbial wound by asking questions about Lou’s long-missing mother and her unscrupulous father. She has no interest in engaging with anyone or participating in nearly any of the paths presented to her until the homeless, bisexual Jackie (Katy O'Brian), shows up at her gym with the muscles of a body-builder and temper of a feral cat. After disclosing that she is only in town for a few days while touring across the western U.S. on her way to Las Vegas to compete in a national body-building tournament, ambitious Jackie begrudgingly accepts Lou’s sudden offer for steroids to improve her chances of success. Following the set up of a comedy of errors, the pair become inextricably joined in their pursuits towards escaping the narrative placed before them and the entirety of the town becomes the backdrop to their messy mayhem.
There are many things this film does expertly, but the most visually accessible is the keen eye towards the unexplored queer female gaze presented in the objectification of Jackie. The concept of “eye candy” has never been far from the thriller or romance genres, but very rarely have they been explored with such a marriage of masculine and feminine standards of beauty. There is grungy, sweaty, and altogether questionably clean intimacy that rarely receives exploration when it comes to female characters on large-budget productions. Furthermore, Cinematographer Ben Fordesman does a magnificent job capturing the physique of O’Brian, a real-life body-builder, in a way that accentuates the strength and power within her form, rather than the lithe beauty that leading ladies are often relegated to maintaining. There are lingering shots on Jackie’s muscles straining as she lifts weights and sweat dripping down her throat—imagery that is often reserved for the leading-man-hunk type of characters. This flipping of the male and female gazes is masterful, inclusive, and I dare say, intimately appreciated by queer and heterosexual viewers alike.
Beyond this, though, Fordesman’s skills are showcased even more beautifully in the concentration of emotional weight in the design of shots throughout the film. There are beautiful moments of calm in wide-shots that really drive home the loneliness and sensation of being lost for the characters in pivotal moments. There are times when Clint Mansell’s music pairs so expertly with the dramatic lighting and visual design, that apprehension can’t help but build in the audience’s core. This ability to hold the audience’s attention hostage is truly remarkable in this piece. Stellar performances by the actors married with impeccable sound design and devilishly conceived lighting results in tension so palpable that one can go moments without breathing just in case they miss the critical moment on the screen. This tension is often broken with comedic timing that is nearly campy in creation, but still offers a sweet respite from the drama unfolding all around these characters desperately trying to avoid being doomed by the narrative.
Tofilska and Glass’ writing is top notch with the dialogue feeling real and well-fitted for the world; leaning into the reality of tropes without making them seem heavy-handed or disingenuous. It also masterfully designs the anti-hero’s journey to provide ample opportunity for quiet moments of character growth interspersed with tension, trauma, and terror.
In terms of performances, the leading cast are second-to-none in their ability to ground exaggerated characters in a reality and familiarity that audiences recognize. The female characters are really what drive the narrative in this piece and they are each fantastically unique and distinguished.
Although Kristen Stewart has often been criticized for her deadpan acting expressions, this very characteristic becomes the linchpin for her character’s development. Lou is calm, collected, and hardly ever bothered or moved by anything in her life, so when the climax begins to mount, Stewart’s more emotive acting chops are given a moment to shine in a way that feels earned and grounded.
Jena Malone as Lou’s sister, Beth, serves as a great contrast in how sisters who grew up in similar environments might differ as they age. Her expressions, body language, and eventual emotional explosion all ring true as the experience of a battered woman without allowing herself to become pitiable. She carries the contradictory experience of one whose worth and sense of self is tied into a marriage that harms her with grace and deference.
Daisy, portrayed by Anna Baryshnikov, is the dark horse of the narrative. She is initially presented as a drug addict who is a little too-obsessed with Lou, but generally comes off as dangerous as, well, a daisy. The skill, though, is in how subversive Daisy is against the threat to her object of obsession. This blonde, ditzy drug addict is objectively the most sharp-witted, observant, and conniving character in Lou’s life and Baryshnikov’s keen skills of hiding her figurative gnashing teeth behind pastel nightgowns and messy, stringy hair is a masterclass in playing into the assumptions of everyone around her to her benefit.
The real star of this film, though, is Katy O’Brian, without a doubt. Charismatic, beautiful, and chaotically bisexual, Jackie’s character is one that could easily become a caricature, save for O’Brian’s deft ability to toe the line of camp and character. O’Brian showcases a magnificent range of experience from desperation to ambitious glory within moments of each other. Her ability to play to both masculine and feminine beauty standards and audiences makes her engaging to watch and impossible not to root for.
Ed Harris as Lou’s criminally-connected father, Lou, Sr., is delightfully dangerous, even if his character design is accurate, albeit laughable. His facade of a gentle demeanor gives a great contrasting mirror to Lou whose trauma solely revolves around the father she refuses to engage with. Dave Franco as Beth’s abusive husband, JJ, also taps into the villainy of a man who can control his temper around those he needs to impress, but doesn’t share the same concern towards his spouse. He is creepy and callous without coming off as cartoonish and becomes a great object of violence for Jackie’s ire later in the film.
“Love Lies Bleeding” includes tropes of the thriller and romance genres beautifully paired with those of the queer experience without making any of them the punchline. It offers a unique and refreshing narrative that focuses on the drama of the chaos around them rather than the trauma of coming out or being outed. There are moments of campy magical realism that might cause the audience to disengage with the film, but have there been many films about queer folks without at least a little bit of questionable camp? This film almost begs the question, "What would have happened to Thelma and Louise if they could... get away with it?"
As they say, it isn’t “good” representation until it’s “toxic” representation and, boy, oh boy, with “Love Lies Bleeding”, we’ve made it.
5/5 bloody stars.
Is Love Lies Bleeding a good pick for libraries?
There is nothing people love as much as a slasher movie during the spookier months of the year. The same audiences that would swarm for a communal showing of “Halloween” (1978), “Scream” (1996), or “Hereditary” (2018), would easily become an audience willing to join a viewing of “Love Lies Bleeding”. Although more mature in nature, as long as there are some parental advisories posted around the viewing, it could easily become a permanent fixture on a “Halloween Move Night” lineup. It would be most accessible for queer members of the community, horror film goers, and those who enjoy dissecting parts of a film that are explicit vs. implicitly shared with the audience.
Why should your film club screen Love Lies Bleeding?
“Love Lies Bleeding” is a remarkable example of turning the idea of the male/female gaze on its head. It showcases natural dialogue as well as how to build tension and should there be any students interested in creating and producing their own films, this piece can be a masterclass on how to build a script with semi-accessible locations, a small cast, and a sharp and effective plotline. It carefully includes tropes of multiple genres and communities with deference, while diving into the realities that provide those types of tropes. A film club viewing of “Love Lies Bleeding” would offer a wonderful opportunity for young filmmakers to take notes on what works for them, what genre guidelines are allowed to be broken, and how to devise a plot that is effective with multiple sub-plots dancing underneath.
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