When I first saw the trailer for Lynne Ramsay’s Die My Love on TikTok a few months ago, every comment on the video said, “I have no idea what this is about. I need to see it.” After watching the film, I can confidently say that no type of trailer could’ve prepared me for it, anyway. With themes focusing on maternity, womanhood, and mental health, Die My Love is a gripping, must-see film for the end of 2025.
This film follows Grace, a young, aspiring novelist, as she begins her new journey of becoming a mother. Her partner, Jackson, moves the three of them into his late uncle’s house in isolated, rural Montana. (His uncle died by suicide in the house, so they were not off to a great start, in my opinion). In a still shot framed on the entrance to the home, the couple walks into their new life with the confidence that the house’s flaws will be easy to fix and perfect for their family in no time. When the two sit side-by-side on the floor of their new home, what looks like a romantic shot of the start of their happy life together soon reveals itself as the audience’s last moment of peace for the next 1 hour, 58 minutes.
In the very next scene, Grace is shown crawling on all-fours through the tall grass in their yard. She seems to be emulating the stance of a cat stalking her prey–the prey, interestingly enough, being her baby and Jackson, who are together on their porch. If this isn’t creepy enough, in her hand is a giant steak knife. Jackson goes inside, and Grace visits her baby, carelessly drops the knife in front of it, sneaks inside the house, and jumps onto Jackson’s back. This isn’t an attack, though, as it is set up to be–it’s just a glimpse into the playful dynamic of their relationship. They soon use the giant steak knife to cut their baby’s birthday cake. Everything is normal. Except it’s not, right? This scene is incredibly successful in setting the tone of the rest of the film. The audience is acutely aware of the fact that something is just not right. This scene, along with a multitude of other plot and stylistic factors, ensure that the viewer’s heart rate never returns to normal.
As the film continues, the audience realizes that Grace is not okay. From small actions like licking their house’s sliding glass door, to more prominent moments, like hallucinations (I think?) and injuring herself, we watch as Grace slowly descends into madness. I was in a constant state of suspense, and when I left the theater, I felt genuine stress. I believe that this effect is accomplished not just by the already-highly-intense events of the movie, but also by the point of view through which these events are presented. The focus of the film stays on Grace. We see what she does with her time when she’s alone in her house, we see her when she takes the baby to visit Jackson’s mother, and we see her darker moments at night. But, there is no narration, and because she is alone most of the time, we don’t get an explanation as to why she behaves the way she does. The events are just presented to us, and because she is slowly losing her mind, nothing is logical, and it creates an eerie, unpredictable atmosphere for the viewers.
Ultimately, the acting is what brings the intensity to its peak. Jennifer Lawrence, who plays Grace, completely surrenders herself to this complex and often absurd role. She masters every blank stare, every angry outburst, and every cat-crawl. She truly makes the audience forget that Grace’s falling apart is a performance. Robert Pattinson, who plays Jackson, is extremely successful in being the “completely and utterly useless man.” Despite the fact that he is absent and avoidant throughout most of the film, viewers can pinpoint every single one of his thoughts and emotions. In addition, Sissy Spacek, who plays Jackson’s mother, Pam, is masterful in switching between the supportive, motherly role and the bone-chilling sleepwalker.
My favorite films are the ones that are packed with little nods to the thesis, and if you blink, you’ll miss one. I took pages of notes while watching Die My Love, writing down every symbol, every curious image, and every seemingly unimportant line. I can tell that absolutely nothing in this film is an accident–it is all pointing to the unrealistic standards placed on women, the challenges of motherhood that don’t get talked about, and how parenthood affects men versus women. Each scene is incredibly strategic, and it’s brilliant.
After seeing Die My Love, I discovered that the film is actually an adaptation of the book Die, My Love by Ariana Harwicz. Originally published in Spanish in 2012 and translated into English in 2017, this novel follows a woman who battles similar problems to Grace, but instead, in the French countryside. This is very interesting to me because during the film, I was getting the impression that it was inspired by the short story “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Whether this was the original intention or not, the references are all there. Grace is “sick” and Jackson tells her all she needs is time and rest; Jackson leaves her alone all day in their new house; Grace is a writer who can’t write; Grace “creeps” along the floor; She slowly descends into madness. The similarities between the two tales go on and on. I also couldn’t help but notice that Grace wears a lot of yellow. While I shouldn’t explain it because it would give too much away, there is one scene in particular that I think pointed directly to “The Yellow Wallpaper,” and when I realized it, my English-major self could’ve screamed.
Die My Love has been received differently by different audiences. It’s uncomfortable, it’s shocking, and it can sometimes be confusing. While I adore this movie, my roommate–who is a man–said the film was boring. Considering the film’s subject matter, this comparison alone should be reason enough for everyone to see Die My Love.