“When routine bites hard and ambitions are low

And resentment rides high, but emotions won’t grow

And we’re changing our ways, taking different roads”

These haunting words are undoubtedly familiar to many of us, as they’re the first lines of Joy Division’s generation-defining masterpiece “Love Will Tear Us Apart”, which is quite possibly the greatest song ever written on the subject of love. It’s brutally honest and direct description of what it means to love someone with whom you are able to let go of all inhibitions, to the point where it actually causes friction when two people engage in such emotional honesty, has made it nothing if not a vital entry into the canon of exceptional musical compositions. Therefore, it seems fitting that Lynne Ramsay would choose this song (albeit a cover version, in which she herself performs the vocals) as the final piece we hear in Die My Love, her extraordinary adaptation of the novel by Ariana Harwicz, which she co-wrote alongside Enda Walsh and Alice Birch, taking on the unenviable task of bringing a seemingly unadaptable story to life on screen. The film follows Grace and Jackson, who move from New York City to rural Montana, where they take up residence in the quaint countryside home of the latter’s late uncle, who left it to them after his unfortunate passing. Within a few months, Grace finds herself pregnant and very soon gives birth to their son. However, what was supposed to be a joyful experience that united the couple turns into something far more harrowing once Grace begins to experience post-natal depression, leading her to experience an ongoing psychosis, losing her grasp on reality and beginning to question everything that surrounds her. Armed with nothing but her own intrusive thoughts, she begins a one-person crusade on her surroundings, disregarding anyone who stands in her way and ultimately coming very close to annihilating the life she has so carefully curated for herself in one fell swoop. A work of unbridled ingenuity and unrelenting chaos, forged by one of our greatest living auteurs, Die My Love is a challenging and provocative film that pushes the boundaries of a medium that the director has elected to redefine under her own terms, leading to a darkly comedic romp through the trials and tribulations of early motherhood, a subject that becomes incredibly poetic in the most unconventional ways throughout this tremendous film.

Die My Love has many aspects in common with We Need to Talk About Kevin, one of Ramsay’s most celebrated works, and a film that stands as something of an unofficial predecessor to this one. They are both stories about the challenges of motherhood, from the perspective of women who find themselves developing complicated relationships with their children. In both cases, these are films that benefit from being directed by a woman, since there are layers of discourse around female identity and the experience of existing in a world where there are certain expectations asserted on people based on sex and gender, and Ramsay is able to bring so much nuance and complexity to a story that could have been mishandled in the hands of another director. The core of Die My Love specifically is based around addressing the idea that motherhood is a gift – we almost always see the process of having children as being a joyful experience, one that is fulfilling and positive, filled with love and adoration. However, while this is certainly true in most cases, very rarely do we see stories that look at how difficult it can be to transition into the role of motherhood – not only does this mean an immediate (and often permanent) suspension of the reckless joys of child-free youth, it also can cause an abundance of internal conflict in those who aren’t quite prepared for the responsibility. Through this, Ramsay is able to make some fascinating observations on the idea of madness, a theme that she has explored in subtle ways in the past, but in choosing to focus on a woman whose entire existence seems to be beyond fragile, to the point where even the slightest inconvenience (or even a misunderstood act of compassion or misplaced compliment) can send her into a spiral of despair and anger. It walks a narrow line between showing Grace as a volatile young mother struggling to adapt to her new role, and an absolutely psychotic woman who is hinging dangerously close to complete self-destruction, and who has no qualms in forcing anyone around her to feel the same existential angst and deep fury that has begun to infiltrate her every waking moment. It’s certainly not an easy set of ideas, but it’s one that Ramsay brilliantly assimilates into the film, turning Die My Love into one of the most brutal and haunting depictions of motherhood we’ve ever seen committed to film.

Considering the many themes that make up its foundation, it’s not surprising that Die My Love is considered one of the year’s most heavy and most challenging films, and this is reflected in almost every aspect. Ramsay is not known for lightweight, effervescent works, but even this feels like she is navigating emotions far more difficult to describe coherently. It’s an atmospheric blend of psychological drama and sardonic dark comedy, a blend that has worked exceptionally well when done with the right intentions – and considering the nature of the story, adding layers of dense, nihilistic humour seems to be an interesting choice that ultimately does work in the context of the film. The tone of the film is difficult to describe – it is certainly driven by a dreamlike logic, an intentional choice designed to make us question which moments are drawn from reality, and which ones exist within Grace’s mind, which is rapidly spiraling into a state of extreme psychosis. Naturally, the startling realisation is that everything we see is indeed steeped in her real life, just from the perspective of someone whose entire grasp on reality has entirely eroded, leading the days to blend into one homogenous entity, a labyrinth of emotions that is nearly impossible to navigate. To evoke this, Ramsay plays with tone and genre – a film with this subject matter is rarely considered comedic fodder, but there is an interesting discussion to be had about humour as a tool to evoke discomfort – nothing in this film elicits laughter, but rather the awkward, stilted dialogue underlines the fraught relationship between Grace and the other characters, showing her gradual descent into madness. Someone spiraling into a state of psychosis will often view the world as an absurd bundle of irritations, rather than some tragic descent into despair, and this film captures that feeling perfectly, reflecting the protagonist’s growing unease – and like with every one of her films, the director not only knows exactly how to handle these tonal shifts, but is able to develop them in such a way that the simple act of subverting expectations becomes a form of artistic expression, almost as if Ramsay is daring us to take her invitation to be voyeurs into the bleak domestic lives of these people as they navigate enormously intimidating challenges.

There came a moment at some point in the last decade when Jennifer Lawrence went from a universally beloved ingénue to someone with much more credibility – while there is nothing inherently wrong with being considered one of Hollywood’s it-girls, there is much more value in the process of maturing into more complex, daring roles. Like some of her peers, Lawrence was more than happy to abandon the happy-go-lucky persona that shoehorned her into the same kinds of roles, and instead pursued projects that pushed her as an actor – and Die My Love is the most recent example of her extraordinary skill and willingness to challenge herself, which has allowed the last few years to undeniably be the most interesting and unpredictable of her entire career. Playing the part of Grace, she is given the mammoth task of bringing to life a woman whose entire life becomes a nightmare, one that is caused almost entirely by her own decisions and inability to handle her emotions. In the hands of another actor, this would just be two hours of merciless self-deprecation, but Lawrence (as well as Ramsay, who obviously works very closely with her to develop this character) sees this as more than just a one-dimensional part. Rather than portraying her as a woman descending into unhinged lunacy, they elect to take the more complex route, one that is much more confusing, but nonetheless brings a lot more value to the story. It’s a stellar performance from Lawrence, and while it may not be a defining work for her (which only shows her skill – for most other actors this would be career-best work), it still is a tremendous entry into her body of work, a challenging and compelling depiction of a woman in psychological freefall. She’s joined by the always reliable Robert Pattinson, who is playing a more level-headed character, but who does not abandon his inherent eccentricities, dipping into them whenever it feels appropriate, as well as the wonderful Sissy Spacek, who takes a potentially forgettable character and elevates her to one of the most indelible, unforgettable characters in the film. Lawrence is the anchor for this film, and delivers an extraordinary performance that is complemented by the supporting players, all of whom are united in their desire to create such a vibrant, compelling story.

However, Ramsay is not someone who exclusively peddles in strong storytelling, and is also a filmmaker who pays close attention to the visual aesthetic and the more creative aspects of her works. Die My Love may have a relatively simple premise, but the only way to make it entirely effective would be to ensure that it is also well-crafted, since anything less than this would put the merits at risk. The film is a technical marvel – the cinematography by Seamus McGarvey is some of the best of the year, with the grainy compositions lending it an almost feral mood, one in which the raw, visceral aspects of the narrative are reflected beautifully on screen. It’s not an easy film to comprehend, and the appearance does not do it many favours – but this seems to be the entire purpose, since if the director wanted us to easily understand what is being portrayed on screen, she’d have chosen a more conventional approach, rather than this unorthodox leap into the unknown. It’s exceptionally well-made, with everything from the framing and colours (with some truly original imagery scattered throughout the film, many of which I suspect will become mainstays in future conversations on Ramsay’s incredible artistry), the unique editing and the music, which consists of some truly strange but unquestionably interesting decisions. As mentioned previously, Die My Love is bookended by songs performed by Ramsay herself, a decision that was apparently made as a result of strict deadlines, but which has been consciously included in the final product as a means to communicate certain ideas between the themes of the film and the director’s own perspective. In between, we find a very strong score crafted in collaboration between George Vjestica, Raife Burchell and Ramsay herself, as well as several fantastic song choices that extend beyond mere needle-drops and instead have excellent narrative function – we just need to look at the recurring use of “In Spite of Ourselves” by John Prine and Iris DeMent, another unorthodox love song, to understand just how effective these elements can be when it comes to guiding the narrative. As not only a narrative achievement, but a creative one too, Die My Love is quite extraordinary, particularly in how it ties everything together in increasingly creative, challenging and frankly quite intimidating ways.

Considering she works so infrequently (having made less than half a dozen films in the last quarter of a century), every opportunity to see Ramsay’s work is going to feel like a major event. Die My Love is certainly not destined to be her defining work, but that is a result of the strength of her previous films, which feel much more intimate and detailed. Needless to say, this film still has more than enough merits within it to qualify as one of the year’s most intriguing and challenging works – it takes an already complex novel and adds layers of nuance, which creates a strange and dynamic film that refuses to give answers to any of its bold questions, and is instead focused on settling on some more peculiar elements that are bound to be polarising, if not outright rejected by those who prefer more conventional depictions of these themes. It is certainly a film that openly acknowledges its divisive approach, and Ramsay is not foolish enough to think she could avoid making a film that is essentially an acquired taste – but for those who are able to leap onto the wavelength of the film and nestle themselves into its bold and unconventional framework, Die My Love is a tremendous achievement. On a technical level, it’s objectively quite special, with some gorgeous cinematography and unforgettable usage of music that bolsters the overall experience in ways that are truly quite spectacular. Narratively, it can be difficult to follow, but once we view it as a mood piece, more than a work guided by a particular story, the sooner we are able to see the overall intentions that guided this film. Bold, well-crafted and sincerely compelling in ways that would be surprising if they weren’t coming from someone who has shown herself to be one of the great filmmakers of her generation, Die My Love is one of the year’s most provocative films, and one that will likely find an audience among those of us who appreciate – if not outright adore – this particular brand of unhinged, beautifully strange absurdism.