Quick synopsis: Grace is a writer and mother. One of those things is ruining her life.

This is going to be a difficult review to write. Not for personal reasons, the emotional moments didn’t cause PTSD or flashbacks to similar events in my life. It’s difficult because it’s going to be tricky for me to talk about this and not make it very similar to my review of Urchin. I also went into that with high expectations, which weren’t met. Both films seem to have a disconnect between reviewers and audiences; with multiple high scores in professional reviews, yet audiences (at least the screenings I was in) met them with silence at best, and derision at worst. They both suffer the same flaw: making a straightforward and potentially emotionally compelling piece “artsy” to the point it’s incomprehensible.

Die My Love (DML, pronounced Dimm-ell) has noble intentions; showcasing how postnatal depression can cause women to feel isolated and gaslit by their own brain, how damaging it can be to their mental and physical health. The issue is that it’s clear that some of the film takes place inside her head, but you’re never sure quite how much. It’s the kind of film which, if it ended and you found out everything except the opening scene was all a dream, would make sense. There’s no indication of what’s real and what’s imagined, so it’s difficult to feel fully invested. It also makes it difficult to learn anything from it. It doesn’t say how you can help your loved ones who are dealing with similar issues, and no indication of how women can help themselves through it. The character does go to a psychiatric institution, but that doesn’t help. If anything, it just widens the chasm between the two leads, with her being angry at him for attempting to get her help. So the main message seems to be “you’re fucked”. The lack of audience investment also means that there is zero emotional resonance. This should be deeply emotional; instead, you’re left cold because you don’t give a shit about anybody in it.

Jennifer Lawrence gets some slack, but she is the core to what does work; the few moments which have emotion are all down to her. Robert Pattinson is fine, but there were many scenes where I couldn’t tell if he was angry and frustrated or just drunk. The two have great chemistry as a couple. The opening moments of them as a happy couple are delightful. The wordless foreplay feels real; they feel like a couple at play, completely comfortable with each other. Most of the other cast aren’t really in it long enough to leave an impact. I love LaKeith Stanfield, but his character adds nothing except raised questions. If you removed him, it would leave no hole in the film. That’s partly because a lot of the film goes from moment to moment, with things happening and then not being referenced again. You’d think somebody headbutting a mirror until they bleed would be mentioned, but nope. They rarely mention a character killing a dog. In fact, they don’t bring up the baby as much as they should, with multiple scenes where it feels like they just leave it at home.

On the plus side, the choice of music is good. With some songs you’ll know, and some you won’t. They are all tonally perfect for each scene, usually played at the perfect volume. I am aware that’s a weird thing to say, but sometimes films struggle to show music being played, with there being a disconnect between the music and the scene, with it clear that the music isn’t actually being played on set. DML, you can almost feel the beats of the music as it’s played, and she dances around the house.

In general, DML is a deeply uncomfortable watch. The constant noise and narrative disruption mean the audience never feels settled; they always feel tense and frustrated. I get it, that’s the point, it means you feel what the character feels. But if something is designed to be deliberately off-putting, it’s not an unfair criticism to not like it because you find it off-putting. I can watch films about death and loss without the requirement of the cinema staff murdering the person sitting in front of me. It feels like a film you’re supposed to analyse, dissect, discuss, think about, pore over. There are very few moments where it feels like a film you’re supposed to watch and want to see again. It’s a thesis, not a film.