In retrospect, the encounter between Lynne Ramsay and Jennifer Lawrence appears fated. The Scottish filmmaker established her reputation with character-driven stories such as *Morvern Callar, We Need to Talk About Kevin,* and *You Were Never Really Here.* Her works, frequently showcasing award-winning actors, confront viewers with profound emotional explorations of longing, rage, and grief. Simultaneously, the American actress garnered acclaim with her role in Debra Granik’s compelling *Winter’s Bone,* which brought Lawrence her inaugural Oscar nomination. She subsequently rose to stardom by assuming roles of women on the edge in *The Hunger Games, Silver Linings Playbook,* *American Hustle,* and *Mother!*

From this perspective, *Die My Love* seems unavoidable, yet it remains remarkable. The talents of Ramsay and Lawrence converge to deliver an intensely ferocious portrayal of female desire and wrath. The result is something wild and brilliantly striking.

*Die My Love* is an engaging drama that evokes *Hedda Gabler.*

Adapted from Ariana Harwicz’s novel, *Die My Love* focuses on a young mother named Grace (Lawrence), who feels confined in her seemingly stable existence. In the screenplay by Ramsay, Alice Birch, and Enda Walsh, the film opens with Grace and her partner, Jackson (Robert Pattinson), arriving at the family home passed down to them, eagerly anticipating the arrival of their first child.

Cinematographer Seamus McGarvey maintains the camera inside the house, which lies scattered with leaves as if almost forgotten. From this wide-angle shot, we observe the couple’s entry through an open door. We hear their spirited dialogue and finally see them come in, bringing vitality along. Grace, adorned in a silky red skirt, appears to flourish as she makes her entrance. Even before they tidy up, she has pushed Jackson against something, naked and asserting their claim on the place.

Their intimate encounter deviates from the typical Hollywood portrayal, with soft lighting and carefully revealed skin. Instead, *Die My Love* offers a raw and visceral sex scene. Grace claws at Jackson like a fierce feline. This same passion later drives her to crawl on all fours across their expansive lawn or explore beneath her own clothing as their heat wanes.

Through physicality, Lawrence and Ramsay express Grace’s fervor, which remains undiminished by her identities as a wife or mother. Therefore, when work pulls Jackson away, leaving Grace with their infant and herself, she spirals, seeking her identity in this new landscape. Her fury, even at its most intense, is profoundly relatable.

Having recently viewed *Hedda,* it was simple to perceive a common frustration shared by these two anti-heroines. While their families, partners, and society would eagerly confine them to the passive roles of feminine domesticity, their spirits resist such constraints. In response, both react unpredictably — although Grace is less calculated than Hedda.

Jennifer Lawrence is captivating in *Die My Love.*

Grace’s passions push her to erupt, occasionally through joyful dancing or spirited singing, sometimes via harsh words or violence. In the film, characters compassionately diagnose Grace with postpartum depression. Yet even this seems like an effort to restrain her.

Lawrence immerses herself in Grace’s psychological unraveling with fearless enthusiasm. She laughs, screams, flails, and battles with electrifying fervor. She is so vibrantly alive on screen that Pattinson, recognized for his intensity, pales in comparison, reflecting their characters’ dynamic. Jackson appears entranced by Grace’s untamed spirit but struggles with his inability to contain her as she might him. Their rising resentment transforms this domestic narrative into a thriller, as something must yield.

However, as fervent as Lawrence becomes — unveiling her body, longing, and fury with equal audacity — the segments that resonate most in *Die My Love* are those in which Grace exhibits a sharp tenderness. There exists a beautiful and humane contradiction in this protagonist. Her snarls and anti-social antics, such as plunging into a pool in her underwear at a family gathering, may astonish the neighbors and humiliate Jackson, yet they don’t imply she lacks compassion or the ability to connect with others.

While motherhood may seem like a limitation, she adores her baby boy and expresses tender, passionate love for him. Even prior to his birth, she extends that same affection toward her father-in-law, Harry (Nick Nolte), who suffers from dementia. While others regard Harry as a child, Grace converses with him as though sharing a secret, suggesting a mutual understanding. Perhaps they connect better than anyone else because others infantilize them instead of engaging with them honestly.

Though Grace is gentle with her son and father-in-law, Lawrence imbues that gentleness with an intellectual sharpness that adds complexity even to these moments of affectionate warmth. She and Ramsay create a character who unequivocally rejects archetypes like mother and wife, causing Grace to resonate on screen, so fully realized that she can barely be constrained within a two-dimensional medium.

*Die My Love*