‘It’s Not a Happy Ending. It’s a Hopeful One.’

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Mary Bronstein’s debut film, the sharp comedy *Yeast*, featuring Greta Gerwig, didn’t make much of an impact when it was released in 2008. She believes it was ahead of its time, as audiences weren’t receptive to the film’s confrontational style or unlikeable characters. However, nearly two decades later, things have changed. Her second film, *If I Had Legs I’d Kick You*, is now being praised for the very qualities that held back her first. “It’s because people are feeling angry and overwhelmed,” Bronstein explains, “and they want to see those feelings represented on screen.”

The movie culminates in an explosive outburst of rage. For the previous hour, we’ve watched Linda (Rose Byrne) fall apart in every aspect of her life – she’s overwhelmed by her daughter’s illness, criticized by her estranged husband, ignored by her landlord about a serious apartment repair, and feels unsupported by her therapist. As a therapist herself, she’s also struggling professionally. All of these disappointments finally come together, creating a moment that feels utterly devastating.

Linda’s situation worsens when her client, Caroline, sends her a disturbing video of Andrea Yates, the Texas woman who tragically drowned her five children in 2001 while suffering from postpartum psychosis. In the video, taken during Yates’s first prison interview, she quotes a bleak passage from the New Testament about being better off drowning than causing harm to others. The mention of water is significant because Linda and her daughter are currently staying in a rundown motel with a leaky roof, and the motel is near a beach. Bronstein, familiar with the Yates case, intentionally chose this location, hinting at a dark possibility: if Linda can’t fix her problems, perhaps a natural disaster could end them instead.

When Linda realizes Caroline has followed her, she makes a decision that, according to Bronstein, sets off a chain of chaotic events. In the darkness, Caroline runs down the beach, and Linda lets her go, even though she knows Caroline is vulnerable and in danger. Bronstein explains this moment as a turning point, saying, “Everything changes.” He believes Linda’s decision to allow a clearly unwell woman to run off into the night and potentially disappear forever is a particularly damaging one. He anticipated this choice would upset some viewers, noting that while Linda makes several questionable choices, this one stands out as especially harmful.

Frustrated with her daughter’s doctor for not removing her feeding tube, Linda decides to do it herself. The doctor had assured her it wouldn’t require surgery and the opening would heal naturally. But as Linda starts pulling, the tube seems to go on forever – all fifty feet of it! The director, Bronstein, created a truly unsettling scene using practical effects. A fake stomach piece worn by the young actress, Delaney Quinn, housed the tube. However, the director didn’t realize just how much tubing was used, only instructing the actress, Byrne, to simply pull. The genuine shock on Byrne’s face, captured in a single take, is a key part of the scene’s impact.

Bronstein really leans into the surreal here, making you question if the length of the feeding tube is literal or just *feels* that way to Linda, the mother. Removing it isn’t just a medical act, it’s presented as a path to peace – a way for her to finally feel normal again. You can almost hear the relief as the insistent *beep, beep, beep* of the pump stops, and Linda’s own inner turmoil quiets with it. When she declares, “I made it better,” it’s clear she’s as much trying to reassure herself as her daughter. But the film doesn’t shy away from reality; Bronstein subtly reminds us that simply removing the tube won’t magically solve the underlying issues – the eating disorder, or the family’s struggles at home.

According to Bronstein, Linda believes there’s a link between her daughter’s medical condition – a hole in her stomach – and a hole in the ceiling of their apartment. Although it doesn’t make sense logically, Linda thinks that if her daughter heals, the strange things happening with the ceiling will stop. She feels compelled to check the ceiling whenever her daughter’s condition improves, convinced that if her theory is right, the hole in the ceiling will have disappeared.

She wasn’t entirely wrong, but the reason for the problem wasn’t what she thought. There wasn’t a hole because her husband, Charles, unexpectedly came back and fixed it himself. Linda had spent all that time trying to get someone to make the repair, and Charles stepped in as the hero, claiming he was motivated by concern for her and their apartment. This left Linda feeling like all her efforts were unnecessary.

Linda didn’t resolve any of the issues weighing on her – her child’s sickness, her client’s anxieties about motherhood, or even the crumbling ceiling at home. Immediately, she just wants to escape. But to do that, she has to face her husband, Charles, and reveal what happened at the motel. In the car, when she asks if he loves her, she’s desperately hoping he’ll reassure her. We don’t see his reaction when he first sees their child, but as soon as Charles begins to panic, Linda runs off, following the same path Caroline took earlier. Everything has been building to this moment. Free from her burdens, she throws herself into the waves, letting out primal cries. However, the ocean rejects her attempt to end her life. Even suicide proves impossible. When she collapses on the sand after repeated attempts, it’s not a fight, but a surrender.

According to Bronstein, the movie centers around Linda’s attempt to escape her past. She’s constantly trying to distance herself from her own thoughts and feelings, but realizes you can’t truly outrun yourself. The film culminates in one last desperate attempt to escape. Bronstein drew inspiration from Virginia Woolf, particularly her recurring use of the ocean as a motif, and the tragic circumstances of Woolf’s death. While acknowledging the horror of her passing, Bronstein describes the image of Woolf walking into the sea with rocks in her pockets as strangely ‘romantic’.

In *Wuthering Heights*, the bleak, swampy moors foreshadow the tragic fate of Catherine and Heathcliff’s romance. Similarly, lying on the beach in the film, Linda realizes she can’t escape her problems through drowning. She understands that facing life is the only other option. She returns to her breathing exercises, attempting to calm her anxiety, and ultimately, after considering all dramatic ways out, decides to accept her circumstances. The final moments of the film reveal Linda’s daughter for the first time, lit by Bronstein to appear innocent and endearing—a stark contrast to how she’s usually portrayed. This makes her seem genuinely deserving of care and attention.

According to Bronstein, this is the first moment Linda truly sees her daughter as a person, not just a responsibility. Throughout the film, Linda is unable to connect with her daughter, and the story is told entirely from her perspective, showing us only what she sees. The emotional impact of finally seeing her daughter – who appears radiant – comes from Linda finally confronting her trauma instead of resisting it.

Linda says she’ll try to improve, repeating a promise her daughter made. However, it’s unclear what that actually means. Will she really change, and what would ‘better’ even look like? It’s also uncertain if she’s fully acknowledged the situation.

Bronstein clarifies that while the movie isn’t necessarily happy, it ends on a hopeful note. She explains that even though we can’t be sure if Linda is being truthful, she genuinely believes what she’s saying in that moment.

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2025-10-10 23:55