Movie review: Love Lies Bleeding

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In Love Lies Bleeding, passion and devotion aren’t mere emotions — they’re intoxicating substances injected into the veins of its characters. 

Director Rose Glass’ sophomore effort, following her acclaimed Saint Maud, is a sweaty, muscular thriller that revels in the complexities of romance. From dreamlike visions of physical transformation to scenes of raw sexuality and brutal violence, the film blurs the line between the literal and metaphysical, immersing viewers in a world where love and pain intertwine.

Set against the backdrop of the 1980s, this bizarre odyssey takes viewers on a rollercoaster ride through psychedelic visions, blood-soaked encounters, and a cacophony of screams. At its core, it’s a genre-bending escapade, led by the enigmatic Kristen Stewart and helmed by  Glass, that continuously defies expectations.

The narrative revolves around Lou, portrayed by Stewart, a young gym manager in New Mexico, burdened with a homicidal father and entangled in the murky world of drug smuggling. Alongside her is the ambitious yet self-deluded Jackie, played by Katy M. O’Brian, embarking on a journey from rags to riches in pursuit of a Ms. Olympia title of sorts. 

Initially, the film unfolds like a subdued mystery, tinged with romantic overtones reminiscent of HBO dramas — very Euphoria-esque. But as the plot thickens and alliances shift, Love Lies Bleeding transcends its neo-noir beginnings, morphing into a neo-fantasy where reality blurs into a nightmare.

Lou and Jackie’s relationship forms the fulcrum of the story, a complex entanglement that neither benefits nor liberates them. Instead, their dependence corrodes them and those around them, leaving a trail of figurative and literal destruction in their wake. 

In this surreal landscape, every element becomes a symbol of Glass’ exploration of gender and power dynamics, with the characters’ psychological journeys taking precedence over any external plot.

The film’s aesthetic, with its mullets and muscle shirts and cars, meticulously captures the essence of its 1989 setting. Yet, beneath the surface, Love Lies Bleeding subverts traditional narratives of prosperity and fulfillment typically associated with the western genre. Here, the characters embark on a journey toward misfortune, debauchery, and inevitable demise, echoing the spirit of films like Dead Man but with a distinctly acid-tinged twist.

As the narrative unfolds, the violence escalates to absurd proportions, blurring the lines between slapstick and stark realism. Glass’ departure from the restrained tone of her previous work, Saint Maud, results in a head trip that oscillates between Coen brothers-style thriller and experimental frenzy. 

In its attempt to defy conventional tropes, Love Lies Bleeding embraces the complexity of its characters, particularly O’Brian’s mesmerizing portrayal of Jackie’s descent into madness.

However, amidst the chaos and adrenaline-fueled spectacle, the film occasionally loses its narrative footing. The kaleidoscopic structure, while exhilarating, leaves some narrative threads dangling, creating a sense of disorientation for the audience. Yet, it’s precisely this audacious approach that sets Love Lies Bleeding apart, positioning it as a potential cult classic rather than a mainstream crowd-pleaser.

In essence, Love Lies Bleeding is a feverish amalgamation of genres and influences, weaving together elements of Thelma & Louise, Pain & Gain, and No Country for Old Men into a tapestry of frenetic energy and bizarre charm. 

For those open to embracing its unconventional storytelling and diving into its exhilarating journey, I would strongly advise against watching it on a full stomach. This film is not suited for the faint-hearted, particularly considering its A24 pedigree. 

From replicating the carpet scenes in Room to the downright traumatizing scenes from Midsommar, Love Lies Bleeding has it all and promises an unforgettable cinematic experience converging in a kaleidoscope of chaos.