Rose Glass’ Hulked-out Love Lies Bleeding is a gritty, gloriously queer desert noir

Courtesy A24

Do you like The Coen Brothers’ Blood Simple? How about Panos Cosmatos’ Mandy? Do you think you’d be into a movie that combined the themes of the first with the visuals of the second, and added in the tragic, queer-coded vibes of Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car and…like…The Hulk for good measure? If the answer to all of the above is “yes” (and that is the correct answer), boy oh boy is Love Lies Bleeding ever the movie for you.

Rose Glass’ stylish revenge thriller is a tale of love, survival and homicidal ineptitude that takes place in a nowhere desert town basically owned by arms dealer Lou Sr. (Ed Harris)—I mean this in a literal sense; the name of the town is Louville. It’s the late 80s, and everyone in Louville has a mullet. Lou Sr. is bald up top, but has long hair below that makes him look like the crypt keeper. His abusive shit-kicker son-in-law JJ (Dave Franco) has a gross little rat-tail mullet that is also a comment on his fragile masculinity. Lou Sr.’s estranged daughter, also named Lou (Kristen Stewart) has an incredible lady punk mullet, which is how you know she’s the best of any of them.

Lou works at Crater Gym (a further comment on how backwater this place is, especially in the shots where the gym is set against the star-studded night sky above), where she spends her days unclogging toilets and fixing the vending machines. Lou becomes enamored by a new arrival in town, bodybuilder Jackie (Katy O’Brian), who’s taken a waitressing job at Lou Sr.’s gun range to cover her entry into an upcoming bodybuilding contest in Vegas. 

Lou and Jackie begin a passionate relationship powered by lust and the steroids Lou keeps slipping her new girlfriend, which seem to have an instant, super-serum-like effect on Jackie. Things get complicated when JJ beats his wife—Lou’s sister Beth (Jena Malone)—so badly she ends up in the hospital, leading Jackie to take out her ‘roid rage on the despicable JJ. Double-crossing, body-hiding, police-informing and some epic magical realism beat-downs ensue.

Love Lies Bleeding is a vibes movie, and the details are really what make it. One of those is Clint Mansell’s synth-heavy score, which evokes the era and its aesthetic, while also being a propulsive banger all on its own (if any film score demanded a vinyl release, it’s this one). Glass and the film’s production team also cast a sheen of sweat and dirt over the proceedings that, combined with the expansive surroundings, convey the feeling of wanting to escape, but being stuck in a gritty, unforgiving reality where hope is elusive. Stewart’s performance is appropriately introverted in that regard, going from subdued to wide-eyed and fascinated when she sees O’Brien’s Jackie, who’s simultaneously uncorrupted and tough as nails.

Courtesy A24

Everything comes together in a third-act climax that could be seen as a muddled cop-out, a culmination of all the bizarre hints Glass has scattered throughout the film, or a symbolic reclaiming of self, strength and freedom.

My feeling is that the magical realism parts of the film involving Jackie and her steroid use feel unnecessary and take away from the lean, Coen-seque noir of the affair, but it also makes Love Lies Bleeding even more gloriously odd than it already is, and it’s commendable that Glass is insistent on doing her own thing here. Queer and feminist film theorists will have a grand time with it. Your mileage may vary. 

Love Lies Bleeding has some very clear influences, but throws them together to create a highly individualized result. It’s slightly disappointing that some parts don’t work as well as they could, but there’s a creative vision at work here that can’t be denied.

Maybe you’ll think the dismount is shaky. Maybe you won’t.

Either way, you’ll probably still be thinking about it for a long time afterward.

Courtesy A24