Jennifer Lawrence is ‘better than ever’ in a searing portrait of motherhood

Jennifer Lawrence and Robert Pattinson star in the ‘Surreal’ E ‘Intense’ study of postpartum depression that has been released at the Cannes Film Festival.

Lynne Ramsay’s We Need to Talk About Kevin is one of a woman’s portraits of a woman who does not take motherhood. And the new film of the extraordinary British director is almost an unofficial prequel. Adapted from the acclaimed novel of the same name of Ariana Harwicz, who, my love is a surrealist, intense already dark exploration or postpartum depression, although it seems for a time that will be many more beers.

Jennifer Lawrence is better than ever like Grace, an aspiring writer who moves from New York to the countryside with her partner Jackson, played by Robert Pattinson with a similar level of taste without a dressing table. The new life of the couple has the potential to be idyllic. They are fiercely in love, as evidenced by animal sex scenes, and their spacious house of Tabillas is surrounded by forests and meadows, so Grace will have peace and the freedom to write a novel.

Still, The Skittering of Rats’ Footsteps in the Opening Scene is a Warning That Dream Home might scho Week, lon’s a week, lon’s a week, lon’s a week, a week’s a week, lon’s a week’s a week, a week’s a week, lon’s a week, lon’s a week, lon’s a week, lon’s a week, Lon’s various, lon, lon. Frustration. Then, when Jackson arrives home with a perpetually perpetually, his situation becomes even more crazy.

That, my love should be to show teenagers as a warning of how repetitive, exasperating and alienating it can be to take care of a baby. Ramsay makes an expert use of innumerable techniques: detailed sound design, insistent music, mixed chronology, strange sequences of dreams, to convey the feeling that grace is becoming transparent to the drift of reality: it can be even more unstable than the traumatized protagonist of Ramsay’s last film, which was never really here.

What prevents the film from becoming too stressful is that Lawrence is always difficult and vibrant, only to the lowest reflux of the character. She never takes us out to sympathize with her. And the script can also be funny Shaharply. Jackson sees himself as a support partner, but he is the son of man who does not turn off a noisy rock song duration of a sincere conversation because everyone, “is a classic.” And Grace’s wear and resentment promise her to be deliciously sincastic with any of the popular locals that have the recklessness of being kind to her.

In addition to building a disturbing and American-Gothic atmosphere, the first half of the films contains all kinds of omens that Grace’s internal fight is surprisingly outsourced. His habit of crawling through the Prado grabbing a large kitchen knife, my love could become a Slasher movie. The motorcyclist who continues to roam fits the house, his identity hidden from the dyeing visor of his crash helmet, suggests that an invasion thriller at home is in sight. References to the suicide of the previous owner of the house imply that the film could be a supernatural cooler about a haunted house. And then there is the recent widowed mother of Jackson Pam (Sissy Spacek), who has sleeping tasks rolling along the way from her home, not far away, with a loaded rifle. The sequences shared by her and Grace present the intriguing argument that the experience of adapting to a birth is reflected in the experience of adapting to a death. These sequences also promise that some child or violent confrontation is only a matter of time.

It is disappointing, then, that none of the thesis of several herbids or Doom becomes a story. The film has its share of incidents, but a piece of humor, a long nervous breakdown, is essential instead of a drama with a plot. And because the subsequent scenes continue to reiterate the issue of raising the children that was made so clear in the former, who, my love becomes exhausting long before it moves to the final credits. Ramsay’s cinematographic style illuminates scene after scene, but as the narrative fragments, and reality and fantasy break, you have the need to read the novel to discover what is happening real. The film may have communicated the Bordom and the Bordom of its heroin too effective.