Love Lies Bleeding
Since watching the hellish Saint Maud back in 2019, a follow-up from director Rose Glass has been sorely needed among those who fell in love with the horror film. And while Love Lies Bleeding isn’t horror by any means, the erotic thriller keeps Glass’s stylish sensibilities and eye for gore well intact to satiate the simmering anticipation. Glass does away with the veil of Christianity and repentance as she dives headfirst into a world of hedonism, desire, and obsession.
Love Lies Bleeding centers around aimless gym manager Lou (Kristen Stewart) and bodybuilder Jackie’s (Katy O’Brian) whirlwind romance but, after a brutal murder, the two become intertwined with the crime-riddled nightmare fuel of rural America. Driven by palpable chemistry between our leads, Love Lies Bleeding subjects viewers to body horrors and striking gore but in an entirely new context – as a direct response to the narrative surrounding women and their bodies and reclaiming the power that comes with it.
Lou (Stewart) in a moment of shock as the violence ramps up and the blood starts spilling.
For her sophomore feature, director/writer Rose Glass (alongside co-writer Weronika Tofilska) further examines obsession in relationships but replaces the religious fervor for bodybuilding and romance. Through this lens, Glass is not only able to depict a cautionary tale of ambition but also challenges the expectations set upon women. Sprinkle in some steroids and plenty of sex and the film acts as a striking lesbian manifesto of independence.
In Love Lies Bleeding, a gun-wielding man stands no chance against our leads. By the time Lou and Jackie are in the thick of their predicament, the film has given their steamy chemistry enough time for us to care for their relationship through intimate scenes that have no interest in glossing over any details and charmingly awkward conversations. Stewart and O’Brian’s affability toward each other lights up the screen that when shit hits the fan halfway through the film, you’ll be holding your breath until the credits roll – the restless, adrenaline-fueled pacing helps too. As the film unfolds, it begins to feel more and more reminiscent of the long-lost erotic thriller modern audiences aren’t accustomed to.
Lou (Stewart) and Jackie (O’Brian) find a tender moment of intimacy amid the chaotic crime world they’ve immersed themselves in.
Unlike Saint Maud, Glass brings the queer undertones to the forefront and dives straight into the lady pond, and who else better to lead such a film than Kristen Stewart herself. While I tend to enjoy Stewart more than the average person – her bumbling and neurotic performance in Crimes of the Future was one of the best in 2022, and her surprisingly comedic turn in Charlie’s Angels was more than welcomed – her performance in Love Lies Bleeding was quite lacking. Oftentimes in the film, Lou faces startling situations, and heart-pounding events unfurl from one minute to the next, but Stewart never seems to react appropriately. In one instance, Stewart delivers a meek “Oh no”, when she finds her partner tied up and in horrible condition. Many more occurrences could support this case but doing so would tread into spoiler territory. Despite Stewart not being able to reach the emotional depths the script requires of her; co-lead Katy O’Brian plays up her charisma enough to pick up the slack. Separately but especially as a duo, though, the pair carry this no-holds-barred attitude necessary for their roles. Driving the criminal acts of the film as its main antagonist is the delightfully wicked Ed Harris as he taps into the subdued psychosis of his character in HBO’s Westworld once again to portray the unsettling character you’d only find in a remote New Mexico town.
Love Lies Bleeding feels like a return to form for the erotic thriller genre with its seedy grime, heightened erotica, and visceral violence as it refuses to conform to the pristine and conservative tastes of today. It cleverly flips the script on the optics of the female body and acts as a feminist reclamation of dominance. Soundtracked by Clint Mansell’s score of plucky, droning synths, Rose Glass, and cinematographer Ben Fordesman’s direction and visuals of rich colors and grain create a steroid shot to the heart in film format.
Verdict: Gritty, unabashedly queer, and taking inspiration from the best of previous thrillers and noirs, Love Lies Bleeding is a thrilling (albeit bloody) Nick Pick.