“And therefore, being completely post-partum-depressed and hating my dreary motherhood existence and unable to generate any further interest in writing, I am lock-and-load determined to descend into feral madness as well as drag my husband and the audience down into the very same hell-pit….aaaagggghhh!”
HE to JLaw’s “Grace”: “You’re deeply unlikable, as in spitty, sputtering, hell-bent, self-loathing…Jesus.
“If I was in RPatz’s shoes I wouldn’t want to fuck you either. Hell, I wouldn’t even want to receive oral pleasuring from you because you’re in a crazy enough space to abruptly bite into Mr. Happy…I would honestly be afraid of you drawing blood or leaving teeth marks.”
From “Die, My Love Warrants Respect But Joe and Jane Will Hate It,” posted from Cannes on 5.17.25:
“While I respected Lynne Ramsay‘s Die, My Love and what it was on about (i.e., “aaagggghhh!”), the Debussy journos didn’t go for it. Too grim, too downish in a one-note sense, no plot pivots of any kind….just a downward swirl into the gathering storm of Jennifer Lawrence‘s postpartum derangement….down, down, down.
“Then again it’s presented in 1.37…boxy is beautiful, bruh.
“What is Die My Love really about?
“Just as Alfred Hitchcock‘s The Birds wasn’t so much a restrained horror film about malicious winged demons as an indictment of social complacency, Die, My Love isn’t so much about JLaw’s descent into self-destructive madness as a portrayal of the dull horror of doing almost nothing with your life while caring for a child…an indictment of middle-class, stay-at-home-and-burp-the-baby-while-baking-cookies momism.”
