Love Lies Bleeding is the kind of deliriously fun, riotously queer and clever experience that reminds you what moviegoing can be. The big swings, borderline camp and hard tonal shifts guarantee it will be either your cinematic dream or a waking nightmare. From the jump we know that Lou (Kristen Stewart at the peak of her grimy goddess powers) is the person who cleans up other people’s shit. Literally. Arm deep in a clogged toilet and unphased as a local addict lurks to hit on her, Lou is a film noir lead for a new generation, unbothered, but also uninspired. And we all know what that means.
When Jackie (Katy O’Brien) slides into town oiled up and on a mission to make her way to a bodybuilding competition, she becomes Lou’s fixation. And in a wry twist, Lou equally becomes Jackie’s weakness — a raw nerve she doesn’t know how to shield but will do anything to protect.
Small-town New Mexico in the late 80s doesn’t seem like the scene of queer exploits and Hollywood dreams, but Lou and Jackie’s unhinged journey into the criminal underbelly is all the more impactful given that nothing about either of them makes sense even in the most mundane version of their reality. Rose Glass takes the concept of a strong female character and mashes it up with tropes relative to damsels in distress and queer-coded narrative elements that are implied rather than overt, meant to be understood by those who understand and taken as part of the scenery by those who don’t.
Love Lies Bleeding swivels rapidly from supreme violence to laugh-out-loud awkward humor. Is Lou’s greatest challenge the dueling trails of blood created by her lover and her family? Or is it her inability to stick to her guns and quit smoking in the face of all the associated stress? As the scope of the story expands beyond Lou and Jackie, so too does the paranoia of the viewing experience. Dave Franco is all creepy smarm and barely concealed rage while Ed Harris is so overtly sneering and sinister that he keeps exotic bugs and has a haircut to match his repulsive personality.
The net around Jackie and Lou is so tangled with unsavory sorts that even their worst instincts seem somehow reasonable, even responsible. Their journey logical. While it is unlikely that Love Lies Bleeding is the beginning of a series of films in which Lou and Jackie navigate noirish entanglements, a la Nick and Nora, the dream of it lives on, much like their dream of a simple life.
