At the start of “Love Lies Bleeding,” we find ourselves rising out of a dark gorge, deep in the New Mexico desert. Shrouded in a hazy red glow, the hellish history of this location feels tangible. Although its significance isn’t revealed until later, the sinister energy clawing at the chasm’s rocky sides lingers under the film’s pulpy, provocative surface.
Set in the 1980s, the film follows Lou (Kristen Stewart), a lone-wolf gym manager with an all-in attitude and a perfectly imperfect mullet. When Jackie (Katy O’Brian), a professional bodybuilder preparing for a show in Las Vegas, stumbles into her gym, Lou falls head over heels and the two begin a passionate love affair. Looming in the background is Lou Sr., Lou’s crime boss father played by a menacing, scenery-chewing Ed Harris.
At the end of the first act, a gruesome act of gory revenge sets everything in motion, and Lou is forced to confront her questionable past in order to protect Jackie. Fueled by cigarettes, steroids and egg -whites (Lou affectionately removes the yolk to maximize Jackie’s gains), Jackie and Lou scramble to cover their tracks, evade Lou Sr. and make it to Las Vegas.
Although Lou and Jackie’s initial encounter is brief, the chemistry between Stewart and O’Brian is palpable. Their steamy scenes are hot and heavy, but their quiet moments together are just as intimate. It’s these exchanges — subtle glances and delicate touches — that give their love story a sweet, tragic edge. Even though the relationship seems headed for disaster, you can’t help but hope their love finds a way out of the grimy wasteland it was born out of.
Director Rose Glass effectively plays with genre just as she did with her first feature, “Saint Maud,” in 2019. Inspired by two of my favorite Davids — directors David Lynch and David Cronenberg — “Love Lies Bleeding” is equal parts desert noir, body horror, neo-western and revenge thriller. Traces of films like “Blue Velvet” and “Blood Simple” are apparent.
Still, Glass’ directorial vision is wholly unique. An emerging master of the provocative, Glass reveals information and delivers compelling images economically. The film’s sole moment of gruesome violence is visceral because Glass lets the audience settle before pulling the rug out from under them. Her lean-and-mean style complements the dichotomy between Lou and Jackie’s love and the violent world they exist in and contribute to. It’s propulsive to an almost detrimental degree, as I wish more time was devoted to understanding Lou and Jackie as individuals.
Like the foreboding dread that’s established in the opening, a dark sense of humor permeates throughout. This comes to a head in the film’s shining moment. Without spoiling anything, a polarizing scene in the third act requires the viewer to welcome the bizarre and run with it. It has an enlightening, eye-opening effect, as it polishes the film’s grand design and reinforces the core theme of transcendent love. Lou and Jackie claw their way out of the dark by defying the bounds of reality. The scene is surreal — a little ridiculous, even — but it’s executed with ease.
“Love Lies Bleeding” is an ultra-weird movie splattered with sweat, blood and dirt, stitched together by razor-sharp editing and a perfectly synth-y score. Beautifully realized by Stewart and O’Brian, the central love affair is tender, destructive and liberating all at once. Although acts of violence may not be my love language, one thing is for certain: I’m all-in on whatever Rose Glass is selling.
