‘The Chronology of Water’ Review: Kristen Stewart’s Directorial Debut Is a Stirring Drama of Abuse and Salvation, Told with Poetic Passion

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I’m always excited to watch a movie directed by an actor I admire greatly. Typically, this actor proves capable of guiding other actors well and creating a decent film. However, the real excitement lies in the exploration when you feel deeply connected to an actor. With anticipation and optimism, I approached “The Chronology of Water,” Kristen Stewart’s directorial debut. Over the years, I’ve held her in high regard as both a talented actress and a captivating star. What secrets would she unveil as a filmmaker?

The effort proved fruitful. “The Chronology of Water” is not just another run-of-the-mill, script interpretation guide for actors. Instead, it’s a deeply artistic and engaging piece that transcends such simplicity. It’s adapted from the 2011 memoir by Lidia Yuknavitch, which recounts her upbringing in an abusive household and her struggle to break free from its shadows. She sought escape through competitive swimming, sexual encounters, drug use, and various other means, eventually finding solace in writing, adopting a style reminiscent of Charles Bukowski. However, for quite some time, these escapes did not provide the relief she sought. She was too deeply marked by the affliction that had been inflicted upon her.

The hard work paid off as “The Chronology of Water” is not a typical script interpretation guide for actors but rather a captivating and artful piece, more than just a guide. Based on Lidia Yuknavitch’s 2011 memoir, it tells the story of her upbringing in an abusive household and her attempts to escape its legacy through competitive swimming, sex, drugs, and ultimately writing like Charles Bukowski. Despite these efforts, she could not find relief for a long time due to the deep imprint of the affliction she had suffered.

This is all extremely personal, something that many filmmakers have attempted to bring to life on screen. However, more often than not, it results in heartfelt attempts, a surplus of moralizing about dysfunctional families, and perhaps an approximation of the mindset they aim to portray.

Kristen Stewart bypasses the usual. As a filmmaker, she’s walking the tightrope – creating a movie that delves deeply into consciousness, offering glimpses rather than explicitly stating it. She portrays Lidia Yuknavitch’s tale in intimate, impressionistic close-ups, making each scene feel like a secret diary entry brought to life on screen. This is the power of cinema – it can be both intrusive and truthful, granting us glimpses into the forbidden, the real, the hidden aspects of ourselves that we often conceal.

In the household where Lidia, portrayed by Imogen Poots, was raised, memories frequently surface of her San Francisco home. She lived with her older sister (Thora, played by Kirsten Dunst), a distant mother (Susannah Flood) who seemed lost in a haze, often averting her gaze, and a father (Michael Epp) with his horn-rimmed glasses and Clark Kent hairstyle, who was both sharp and handsome but stern, and prone to delivering biting, painful words. His anger would flare like a whipcrack. When the family opened Lidia’s college acceptance letters in spring 1980, even a three-quarter scholarship didn’t meet his approval. To him, it was a sign of failure, and he was so destructive that such an outcome only fueled his rage.

Moreover, there are aspects of the movie that subtly imply Lidia’s abuse without directly showing it. These hints create a chilling atmosphere where the abuse seems to be at the heart of everything, yet shrouded in mystery, like a spectral presence. This is a reflection of how child abuse can leave such a deep and lasting impact on its victims. The experience is often so traumatic that it fractures the very core of the child’s identity, causing it to splinter and become fragmented. This is part of what makes it so insidiously evil.

In essence, Lidia’s character undergoes several transformations, from a high school swimmer to a reckless college student, but underneath it all, she’s wearing a disguise. The true Lidia isn’t fully revealed. Imogen Poots brings an innate radiance to her role, and this quality is deeply ingrained in Lidia’s character. This extends from her relationship with a sensitive folk singer (Tom Sturridge), where his soothing passivity both calms and infuriates her, causing her to lash out, to the scenes depicting her reckless behavior, right up to the moment when she confronts her father with a defiant “Fuck you, motherfucker.” The film’s use of water symbolism is striking – it represents both Lidia’s confinement and her escape, mirroring her complex nature.

Lidia faces numerous hardships. After becoming pregnant and choosing to keep the child, her sister offers assistance in its care. Unfortunately, the baby is stillborn. To cope, Lidia frequently drinks vodka from a flask and indulges in multiple sexual encounters with men, then women, and back to men, all seeking some sort of transcendence. Yet, even when she finds it, she remains unable to break free. She’s bound by memories from her youth that are deeply personal yet require denial, leaving her feeling disconnected and never truly herself.

The film ‘The Chronology of Water’ immerses us in every moment as if we were living it, yet it narrates a story far beyond the physical realm – it follows the journey of a spirit striving to endure and heal with each passing instant. Lara Poots’ exceptional portrayal encapsulates this theme beautifully; she embodies the torment and emptiness felt by Lidia, but also reveals the hidden sanctuary within her – the chamber where her secrets lie, the source of her strength that keeps her from fading away.

Stewart collaborates with cinematographer Corey C. Waters and editor Olivia Neerghaard-Holm to create “The Chronology of Water” as a radiant documentary, blending the experience of living it and recalling it simultaneously. The drama has a pointillistic style, similar to that in “The Tree of Life” – the imagery poetry that both enlightens and burns.

Lidia secures a swimming scholarship for Texas Tech, but abandons it due to her turbulent lifestyle. Later, a friend’s chance encounter leads her to enroll in Ken Kesey’s course at the University of Oregon. The famed author of “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” is working on a collaborative novel with his students. The film adaptation features the lively, unconventional performance of 70-year-old Jim Belushi portraying Kesey. Kesey mentors Lidia, inspiring her to view words in an innovative manner. A notable moment occurs when she’s asked to read one of her prose-poems at a public event. Her words resonate not as written pieces, but as spontaneous outbursts of recollection. This authenticity is what makes Lidia a genuine author.

In Stewart’s film, he predominantly captures scenes up close without using establishing shots or providing explicit setup dialogue for many sequences. Consequently, viewers learn about Lidia’s actions such as visiting the beach to scatter her dead infant’s ashes, receiving guidance from Kim Gordon’s character, or transitioning into a writing teacher, not through direct explanation but rather by experiencing them naturally as parts of life unfolding. By the end, we feel like we have been immersed in and transformed by these events, much like being baptized.

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2025-05-17 02:48