'Love Lies Bleeding' review: Queer drama is audacious but tiring
Rose Glass's Love Lies Bleeding, starring Kristen Stewart and Katy O'Brian, has an undercurrent of raw, unbridled, lethal energy coursing through it. Dominated by electric performances from the leads and Ed Harris and Anna Baryshnikov, it stays true to its title and, for the most part, makes for an engaging watch. Eventually, however, it ties itself up in knots, becoming tiring and overbearing.
This is what happens in 'LLB'
Less than two hours long, LLB follows Lou (Stewart), a gym manager who falls for Jackie (O'Brian), a bodybuilder. Both have a troubled, haunting past, and are running away from places that tether them to their deplorable lives, so they connect easily and their love flourishes rapidly. Until, when Jackie gets pulled up in a bloody, violent mess orchestrated by Lou's family.
How the gym acts as a metaphor for Lou
The film begins with the scene of a gym (center of much action of the film)—everybody sweating, counting their reps, trying to outdo themselves, and ultimately finding an escape. In a way, it becomes a metaphor for Lou, who, though not at a machine, is trying to do the same, trying to leave behind who she is and who she wants to be.
Women have had enough in this film
LLB, at the heart of it, is a story about women and the problems that infest and nearly corrode their lives. Female rage and anger come alive mostly through Jackie's character but partly also through Lou's; the potent tension doesn't seem fabricated but immensely believable, so you care about the characters even if you turn your eyes away from its raunchy, sexually explicit content.
Secondary characters are just as important; the locations also help
Since LLB majorly takes place in a select few locations, it lends itself a chamber kind of film feel, and cinematic history knows every film that used this technique benefitted immensely. Separately, well-etched-out movies don't just keep encircling the main leads but also provide meat to the secondary ones, and LLB scores points for deftly tying the secondary characters' stories to the central premise.
How much violence is too much?
As the movie progresses, the tension simmering on the surface undergoes metamorphosis into a full-blown volcanic eruption because there are moments after moments of violent shock—jaws being hammered, people being killed point-black, blood being spattered on faces and walls, and a side character undergoing domestic violence, you name it. The meaning of the film, thus, never leaves the story, the characters, or the setting.
However, it seems to dwindle post-intermission
Though I was impressed by how what seemed like an ordinary queer love drama turned into a high-stakes murder investigation drama, I also couldn't help but feel tired by the end of it. It's not a long film, but the second half feels much longer than it is, and after a point, I just wanted everyone to put their guns down.
If you can handle gore, watch it
Most of LLB works because of its atmospheric tension and its exploration of uncontrollable rage and its dreadful consequences. I wish some of its scenes didn't drag on and the violence was reined in a bit, but nonetheless, LLB can be watched due to its grittiness and performances. You can almost hear it say, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!" 3/5 stars.
