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“Die My Love,” directed by Lynne Ramsay, follows young couple Grace (Jennifer Lawrence) and Jackson (Robert Pattinson) after their move to an isolated area in Montana and the birth of their first child. As the film unfolds, Grace’s mental health begins to deteriorate, coinciding with the six-month birthday of their newborn. Her behavior grows increasingly erratic — despite her already having a tempestuous personality — and her life and the lives of those around her begin to spiral out of control. The film, which was nominated for the Palme d’Or, was released in the United States on Nov. 7.

“Die My Love” opens on the couple inspecting their new home, which previously belonged to Jackson’s late uncle and has been left abandoned since his death. This newfound home is painstakingly depicted: The interior is dilapidated and outdated, adorned with tacky wallpaper and floors coated in dust and grime. The camera remains still as the couple wanders through the house, calling out to each other. The only other sounds are the soft, natural noises of the surrounding wilderness. They eventually sit on the floor of the kitchen together, imagining the home’s potential: Grace, an author, envisions a quiet place to write, while Jackson plans to turn one of the rooms into a music space. Their moment of domestic tranquility is abruptly cut off by a blast of rock music and images of a forest in flames. The sequence perfectly epitomizes the film’s dual nature as fiery, turbulent, and destructive, yet simultaneously beautiful, raw, and naturalistic.

The score is one of the most enthralling aspects of “Die My Love.” It is starkly different from one scene to the next, sometimes entirely absent, other times nearly dominating the dialogue. Fluctuations in style and volume draw attention to the music rather than letting it fade into the background; it impacts the scenes as much as it supports them. The score often mirrors Grace’s mental state, reflecting her moments of painful monotony, romantic or familial nostalgia, and chaotic or violent impulses. It doesn’t simply accompany the story; it shapes and disrupts it.

Contributing to the film’s constant sense of whiplash is its mysticism and nonlinear storytelling. Dreamlike sequences filled with impossible or improbable events deform the boundaries of time and reality, placing the viewer inside Grace’s mind as she struggles with grief and the weight of motherhood. Time — which lurches forward only to snap back — coupled with the film’s magical elements, allows for beautiful scenes that elucidate many of the underlying themes. The musical components, grounded in natural imagery, offer images of black stallions, ghostly evergreens, misty nights, and clear springs that bring an intriguingly serene element to an otherwise volatile narrative.

While the film’s juxtaposing imagery and fragmented timeline are at times shocking or visually brilliant, its narrative becomes muddled. So much energy is spent decoding scenes and behavior that the film’s artistry loses its appeal. Some moments feel included solely for shock value and don’t contribute to character development or plot progression. The line between past and present and between illusion and reality blurs so thoroughly that one can no longer orient oneself within the story.

As “Die My Love” continues, what once felt arguably invigorating becomes frustrating. Themes of maternal love, generational grief, and isolation emerge but lose clarity beneath the film’s abrasive energy and Grace’s incomprehensible and unceasing instability. The problem lies not within her mental illness itself but in the almost unrealistically ambivalent nature of her character, and the relationships that should define the story ultimately fall completely flat. Her relationship with Jackson lacks chemistry, relying more on sexuality than emotional connection, which weakens its authenticity and relatability. Moreover, her relationships with her son and mother-in-law, while sometimes poignant, are neglected in favor of outrageous episodes and confusing decisions.

In the end, “Die My Love” feels visually and sonically striking but emotionally incomplete. Despite its cinematography and eclectic score, it reads as underdeveloped and unfocused. What could have been a heart-wrenching story about family, mental health, and grief, set against a naturalistic and otherworldly backdrop, becomes an unfinished, somewhat hollow work.

—Staff writer Leah M. Maathey can be reached at leah.maathey@thecrimson.com.