Lou lives in one of those middle of nowhere towns that the American dream forgot. Set at the end of the prime of the musclebound hero era in 1989, Glass sketches a remote town in New Mexico that looks like it literally traps people in cycles of violence. Lou has a locally famous family in that her father Lou Sr. (a wonderfully seedy Ed Harris) is basically the town’s crime lord. The owner of a gun range, he’s running weapons across the border, and has been disposing of his enemies in a nearby ravine, possibly even Lou’s mother. Lou’s sister Beth (Jena Malone) struggles under the pain of domestic abuse at the hands of her awful husband JJ (a mulleted Dave Franco). Into this vat of lighter fluid drops the flame that is Jackie (Katy O’Brian), a bodybuilder just stopping off to train on her way to a contest in Las Vegas. She’s like nothing Lou has ever seen. They fall in love, alternating injections of steroids with other kinds of strenuous physical activity. The charismatic O’Brian play Jackie like a literal superhero, getting stronger with each shot of either steroids or Lou’s commitment to her, but her Bruce Banner ultimately has a dark side too.
At first, “Love Lies Bleeding” feels like a relatively straightforward noir with the outsider in Jackie almost stumbling into decisions that can’t be reversed. It’s been compared to “Drive” and “Thelma & Louise,” but there’s also a bit of the great “Red Rock West” and other films about strangers who get stuck in the small town they just wanted to spend a night in. When a shocking and gory act of violence forever alters Jackie & Lou’s relationship, “Love Lies Bleeding” really picks up steam, pushing its characters into increasingly tight spaces from violence may provide the only escape. But it constantly swerves left when you expect it to swerve right, unpredictable in ways that can be invigorating.
Part of that comes from the fact that Rose Glass hasn’t made a traditional modern noir. She’s made a film that doesn’t lean into tropes like the femme fatale as much as explode in a new direction, getting more surreal and unpredictable, like a steroid trip gone very wrong. Some of the narrative explosions of the final act will be way too much for some people, and I do think that Jackie’s character gets a bit lost in the haze of the narrative role she needs to play, although O’Brian is a real find, using her physical presence in a way that’s confident without being showy. Glass avoids the potential to go Refn-esque stylized too, edging into territory that could be called over-done but never crossing that line. She very intentionally keeps the film gritty, sweaty, and dirty, which greatly adds to the substance and the stakes. (Major credit to a phenomenal Clint Mansell score too.)