Love Lies Bleeding

 

Director Rose Glass

Glass with Kristen Stewart

Katie O'Brian, Glass, and Stewart

LOVE LIES BLEEDING                  B-                                                                                    Great Britain  USA  (104 mi)  2024  ‘Scope  d: Rose Glass

This is like a Marvel comic B-movie that flaunts its neo-noir mentality, a throwback to a golden age of 90’s dark psychological crime thrillers with sex and violence at the heart of its beating pulse, like Ridley Scott’s THELMA AND LOUISE (1991), Carl Franklin’s One False Move (1992), the Wachowski sister’s lesbian romance Bound (1996), and perhaps most especially David Lynch’s LOST HIGHWAY (1997), a dreamlike action thriller with surreal vibes that this occasionally resembles, right down to the lines of the highway passing in the dark, and while it thrives on a seething realism of gun culture that can be brutal, with plenty of sinister, repressed impulses of sexual obsession and revenge, the kicker is it ventures into the surreal and fantastical at the end, which is likely to polarize viewers.  Glass initially studied film and video at the London College of Communication where she worked as a runner on film sets for music videos and commercials, and was then accepted at the National Film and Television School, with notable alumni Lynne Ramsay and Terrence Davies, graduating in 2014, heavily influenced by David Lynch, Darren Aronofsky, and David Cronenberg, where she was selected by Bong Joon-Ho as one of his 20 directors to watch for in the 2020’s in BFI Sight and Sound, Bong Joon Ho's 20 upcoming directors for the 2020s - BFI.  Teaming up with producers Oliver Kassman and Andrea Cornwell, co-writing with former NFTS grad Weronika Tofilska, this film is set in an early 1990’s Southwestern setting, shot in Albuquerque, New Mexico by Ben Fordesman, who also shot the director’s initial feature SAINT MAUD (2019), a British horror film that raised plenty of eyebrows with its morbid subject matter, but according to Writer/director Rose Glass: “women love messed up stuff.”  That could be the underlying theme of this movie, with a pulsating electronic synth-heavy score by Clint Mansell, known for his collaboration with Aronofsky, as the camera zooms in on a seedy gym in the middle of nowhere that looks dark and depressing, expressing the unrelenting dreariness of these dead-end lives, with suggestions of a little girl on girl action, with the clingy, flirtatious airhead Daisy (Anna Baryshnikov, Mikhail’s daughter) coming on strong to the reclusive gym manager Lou (Kristen Stewart, who keeps finding these quirky roles that she completely inhabits, apparently informing the director, “Who the hell else is going to play this role?”), who seems more concerned with the grim realities of the job, most of which are unpleasant, like cleaning the perpetually clogged toilets, Love Lies Bleeding | Official Preview HD | A24 YouTube (4:50).  Immediately we’re reeled into this visually striking film aesthetic of small town Americana with foreboding dark undertones that suggest something threatening lies ahead, featuring a terrific sound design, where the ominous mood of horror feels derived from such classics as Henri-Georges Clouzot’s Diabolique (Les Diaboliques) (1955), and the neo-noir thrillers of Orson Welles’ TOUCH OF EVIL (1958) and the Coen brother’s Blood Simple (1984).

In this small community where not much ever happens, what plays out is like an old-time western as a stranger rolls into town, yet the gender is inverted as the swaggering stranger walking into her gym is a pumped-up young female bodybuilder named Jackie (Katie O’Brian, a martial arts devotee and former professional bodybuilder).  The obsessional attraction is instant, with Jackie’s muscular build and sweaty workout routine capturing the eye of Lou, who can’t take her eyes off her, just waiting for a chance to talk to her, closing up early when a guy starts hitting on her, but ends up breaking a up a fight between Jackie and a bulked-up guy who likes pushing people around, but Jackie pushes back, getting openly confrontational before Lou steps in, taking Jackie aside as she closes the joint.  Offering her free steroid injections, something illegal to have or distribute without a license, yet readily available from one of the black market distributors, she gives her a shot in the butt, which starts the ball rolling.  Before you know it, they’re grabbing at each other on the floor mats before hopping into bed, where Jackie ends up staying with Lou, as she’s just a drifter passing through on her way to Vegas for a bodybuilding tournament, yet it’s love at first sight morphed into each thinking the other is their ticket out of there, but their combustible emotions become a self-destructive nightmare.  Weirdness is associated with those continuing injections, as they create a nirvana-like blissful mindset where you feel invincible, something Jackie describes as like Popeye eating a can of spinach, where suddenly her muscles start bulging in a comically exaggerated Hulk-like way, adding an element of the surreal to much of the dreamlike imagery that unfolds in a visual parallel to David Lynch.  We discover Lou comes from a dysfunctional family, where her psychopathic father Lou Sr. (Ed Harris with ridiculously long hair extensions), owns the gym and a local shooting range, and appears to be a crime boss, an arms dealer that the FBI is watching very closely, with his own dirty cop on the payroll working for him, Officer Mike (David DeLao), having alienated his daughter to the point she refuses to talk to him, wanting nothing more to do with him, yet they’re quickly brought back together into the same universe, while her sister Beth (Jena Malone) is the punching bag of her abusive husband JJ (Dave Franco), yet refuses to press charges, as she’s under the delusional impression this is love.  Lou’s protective closeness to her sister is what’s keeping her there, so when he puts her in the hospital, lying unconscious, her face puffed up and on life support, Lou grows so infuriated with JJ that she really wants to kill him, where that paralyzing rage is transferred to Jackie, who feels compelled to act in ways Lou wouldn’t, and in the process exposes the darker, buried secrets of society where hidden evils are lurking under a façade of normalcy.  This is a European director’s unambiguous portrait of an America saturated with guns, marked by bloodshed, and characterized by lawlessness. 

Echoing the solitude of characters found in Lynch films, the film goes off the rails a bit, using extreme close-ups, showing love intertwined with violence, unafraid to push the boundaries of body horror, growing ugly and brutally grotesque, exploring deeper themes of identity and metamorphosis, where the imagery alone becomes a metaphor for the underlying cruelty emanating from this family, with visions of a demon-like Lou Sr. bathed in a stark red light motif grinning diabolically, which has the effect of engulfing scenes with an intense and ominous atmosphere.  It veers out in multiple directions, with inexplicable murders, betrayals, cover-ups, and tension mounting from all the built-up mayhem associated with things going overwhelmingly wrong, where the plot feels convoluted and the unsympathetic characters are basically unrelatable, despite stellar performances, yet there are moments of wicked humor.  Jackie tries to do the right thing, but doesn’t know the family history, or how dangerous it is to swim in the crime-infested waters.  All she really wants to do is head to Vegas for the competition, but gets bogged down by this mess, Love Lies Bleeding Exclusive Movie Clip - More Powerful ... YouTube (1:26).  As if in response, she starts injecting herself with larger doses, kind of losing her head in the process, growing more wildly out of control, delving into psychedelic Aronofsky territory, uncovering strange and obscure aspects of human nature.  Meanwhile, the more close-to-the-vest Lou finds herself in survival mode, continually having to clean up the messes left behind from her partner’s impulsive behavior, which is well-intentioned, but bonkers, turning this into a kind of mind-fuck of a movie.  The bodybuilding tournament goes off as expected, with Jackie showing up to participate, and while she fits right in as one of the stand-outs, it soon becomes clear that things have gone horribly wrong, with sound distortions and an altered mindset, becoming a hallucinogenic, out-of-body experience, complete with quick cutting flashback sequences, where she ends up in jail for assault, but that’s only the beginning of a deranged, nightmarish path of disorientation and confusion, representing an abstract emotional perspective, complete with hidden interpersonal dynamics that suddenly become clear, creating an adrenaline-laced bloodbath that is typically the domain of men in movies.  Reminiscent of Amanda Kramer’s deliriously stylized Please Baby Please (2022), a kind of subterranean, neon-lit fever dream, with its gaudy costumes and art direction, billed as a “genderqueer extravaganza,” this gets into the psychological anguish surrounding homophobia, as you tend to internalize all that projected hatred.  At different points in the film both Lou and Jackie think they are monsters, having been called that by their own parents, getting inside their heads, bringing past traumas into the present, creating this whirlwind of anxiety and mixed emotions, capturing a sense of the eerie and the foreboding, yet there’s nothing subtle about the audacious conclusion, mixing hard corps realism with heavy doses of fantasy, representing a transformation of love, moving from stylish pulp to camp.  Unafraid to wear her influences on her sleeve, becoming both an homage and a distinctly unique piece of cinema, this is not for the faint of heart, with an exaggerated, over-the-top strangeness that is not for everyone, as the film revels in its own graphic violence, with some shocking, gory moments that come out of nowhere, balancing elements of sex, romance, horror, and action sequences, with Glass ensuring the gruesome aspects of the movie are served without overpowering the theme of queer romance and sexual desire, where despite all odds, their lives merge together in an ode to reckless devotion.     

The Influences of LOVE LIES BLEEDING YouTube (11:14)

The Wild Goose Lake (Nan Fang Che Zhan De Ju Hui)

Director Diao Yinan

THE WILD GOOSE LAKE (Nan Fang Che Zhan De Ju Hui)         B                    

China  France  (110 mi)  2019  d: Diao Yinan

The long awaited follow-up to Diao Yinan’s Black Coal, Thin Ice (Bai ri yan huo) (2014), a wintry film noir that took place in the northernmost icy region of China bordering on Russia, while this takes place in the sweltering heat of Wuhan Province in central China, feeling more like the lush, tropical setting of Wong Kar-wai, with the constant rain, neon colors, and noirish aesthetics producing haunting images of rare beauty, much of it due to cinematographer Dong Jingsong who also shot Bi Gan’s Long Day's Journey Into Night (Di qiu zui hou de ye wan) (2019).  More of an open tribute to genre films, with the title emblematic of “a wild goose chase,” this heavily stylized film features plenty of action in an ultra-moody, hyper-violent gangland thriller, much of it told in flashback, more often than not producing unexpected results, becoming something of a crowd pleaser.  At the outset, under a torrential rain, Zhou Zenong (Hu Ge) is a man alone at a railway station, on the run from police, smoking a cigarette while waiting under the overhang until a mysterious woman arrives, Liu Aiai (Gwei Lun-mei), asking for a light.  This existential backdrop immediately sets the stage for film noir territory, kicking in an obligatory flashback sequence, yet it’s the last time anything will be remotely clear in this visually extravagant cops and robber caper.  Recently released from prison, the tight-lipped Zhou finds himself in a hotel basement meeting of rival motorcycle gangs discussing how they’re dividing up the territory, which gets hotly contested by the volatile Crazy Cat Brothers, breaking out into a fight, where a temporary truce is established, but only on the condition that the opposing sides accept a challenge, whoever steals the most motorcycles in a set period of time is declared the winner (“an Olympic Games of theft”) and awarded the coveted territory in dispute.  Unbeknownst to Zhou, the Brothers cut a deal behind the scenes and sabotage Zhou’s gang with a surprise attack, turning into a demolition derby of swerving motorbikes, decapitating one of his riders, chasing Zhou down as well, trying to kill him, but he accidentally kills a cop while evading the chase, making him the target of a nationwide police manhunt.  Liao Fan, from the director’s earlier film and Jia Zhang-ke’s Ash Is Purest White (Jiang hu er nv) (2018), plays the Police Chief, seen in a room filled with cops drawing up his capture strategy (mirroring the outlaw convention), with cops initially posing as a motorcycle gang, but who are they fooling?  The underworld also joins the chase, hoping to collect the sizeable reward, yet the confounding aspect is that the outlaw claims he wants to turn himself in so his estranged wife Shujun (Wan Qian, aka: Regina Wan), who he hasn’t seen in five years, can get the reward, yet his hellraising Billy the Kid instincts say otherwise.            

In what is largely a slow-paced film, the director ratchets up the adrenaline in the high-speed action scenes with a flurry of frenetic violence, yet the plot is cluttered with continual side trips that can feel distracting, delving into contending rivalries from secondary characters, never really developing the lead characters, who remain isolated and aloof, without much insight into their past history.  While kind of an underwhelming, one-note screenplay, the set design is extraordinary, finding shabby, dilapidated sites with crumbling rooms in a deteriorating bi-level apartment complex, back rooms of grungy restaurants, street vendors with a lone lightbulb hovering over their darkened stalls, or a room covered in newspapers and old photographs that seem to come to life, adding elements of originality that are tastefully inserted into this murky atmosphere of lingering chaos.  Zhou is laying low, needing a bullet removed from his shoulder (bleeding profusely throughout the entire picture), giving him time to contemplate his fate, yet despite his long absence, Zhou is thinking of the family he left behind.  Shujun, now raising a son, is unsure she really wants to get dragged back into his world again, harassed by police every step of the way.  When Liu Aiai convinces her to meet her husband in a public place, there are so many plain-clothed cops in the vicinity that every single person you see is suspect, erupting in pandemonium and violence, where they have to abort the plan and are lucky to escape unharmed, with Shujun refusing any more cooperation.  She is replaced by Liu Aiai, who has a history at Wild Goose Lake, where Zhou has retreated, as it’s a crowded tourist attraction where she works as a “bathing beauty,” slang for prostitutes on the beach in oversized wide-brimmed straw hats that take their customers out into the water for pleasuring.  The Chief gets word Zhou may be hiding there, organizing a large tactical unit, scouring the area with cops in civilian clothes who are stationed in every nook and cranny on the street, leaving little avenue for escape.  While it gets a bit ridiculous, considering Zhou is ostensibly trying to turn himself into police, and there is nowhere to turn where their presence can’t be seen, yet he hesitates, apparently thwarting even his own plans.  What’s uniquely different here is that there’s not even any pretense of romance, as that never enters into the picture, so any idea of a traditional femme fatale gets lost in the shadowy intrigue, as Liu Aiai is little more than a messenger, a go-between sending messages to the crime boss on the run, where he remains the central figure, occasionally exploding into action on a moment’s notice like a comic book super hero, undeterred by his injury, holding his own against a stream of pursuers, leading to plenty of close calls, but continuing to avoid detection. 

The fictitious Wild Goose Lake is considered gangland turf, so when the police infiltrate, there’s really little difference between them, as both represent an absence of morality, where fabricating lies or utilizing betrayal tactics are all too common, with both sides resorting to underhanded tactics, becoming a metaphor for moral rot, with pervasive lawlessness and shifting loyalties.  Interesting that in nearly all these settings a small TV can be seen in a corner of the room broadcasting the State news network, which includes regular updates on this police manhunt, even a planted story about the outlaw’s pregnant girlfriend, anything to draw him out into the open, though nothing seems to work, restricted to only moving at night, yet he continually slips past checkpoints.  With the camera following his every move, he’s highly adept at avoiding detection, continually briefed by Liu Aiai, including a poignant scene between them in a canoe on the lake late at night, which plays out like a calm before the storm.  The picture of China is one of pervasive criminality, where every storefront dive or food stall is a cover for police surveillance, offering a threat of imminent danger, where no one is safe from being a target.  In a world of constant betrayals and double-crosses, we never know who’s aligned with who in this constantly shifting moral void of deceit, where organized crime and law enforcement are one and the same, where everyone is viewed with suspicion as a potential threat to the state, all part of the excessive government overreach that dehumanizes the population.  God knows how many innocents were caught in the crossfires of this film, but no one seems to care.  The depiction of life on the margins in China is an unbroken pattern of betrayal and undermined aspirations, with nothing left to hope for, as all avenues are closed.  Fatalistic to the core, yet the director’s flamboyant visual style is on display, arguably the closest Chinese director to the Westernized standards of Hollywood, he takes B-movie elements and injects them with an arthouse sensibility, creating testosterone-driven shoot-outs that grow absurdly violent, especially given Zhou’s bleak circumstances, yet he has a tendency to rise from the dead with an explosive force of his own, veering into Takashi Miike territory, especially a cop impaled by an umbrella, blood splattering everywhere, where moments like this are the real driving interest in the film, contrasted with the supremely ridiculous music video image of dancers with neon-lit soles on their feet enjoying themselves at an outdoor dance party, all in choreographed formation to Boney M’s “Rasputin,” Boney M. - Rasputin - YouTube (4:43), until gunshots ring out and everyone scatters.  Arguably an exploration of toxic masculinity in such a patriarchal society, the opportunities for women are nonexistent, with Liu Aiai longing to escape her dead-end existence, Shujun is slaving away in a factory, where there is little sign of escape or independence, which is why the ending comes as a complete surprise, almost fairy tale in nature, as if the sun has finally come out, becoming an absurdist tale, finding optimism in the ashes of broken dreams.