The Chronology of Water

"The Chronology Water" is a boisterous spectacle of the female experience directed with pure love and sincerity. Kristen Stewart directs a stunning mesmerizing debut with an astonishing lead performance from Imogen Poots. It’s not because you’re great in front of the camera that you’ll be equally superb behind it, too. More often than not, when a famous actor takes a stab at filmmaking, they play it too safe. This results in a timid and hold-back movie that hopefully is straightforward enough to attract the biggest audience. However, Kristen Stewart (Love Lies Bleeding, Spencer) is a stunning exception to that rule. With The Chronology of Water, she – and a formidable Imogen Poots – treat the audience to a dynamic, chaotic and compelling experience. The boldness and braveness of Stewart as a director and writer are apparent from the start. She decided to film on grainy 16mm and, together with co-writer Andy Mingo (Romance, The Iconographer), she turned the film’s source material, the abuse memoir by Lidia Yuknavitch, into a striking script worth being adapted. While fiction and reality blend in the script, it doesn’t matter how much we know about the actual Lidia. Even more so because for a lot of abused people, fantasy is the ultimate form of escapism, and for Lidia, it’s no different. She created a self and reality that might not be everyone’s reality. Throughout multiple chapters, you follow what Lidia’s (Poots) story could have been, was and is. An accumulation of childhood abuse, broken relationships, drinking problems and professional failures would be a difficult watch watch in any feature, but in this work, it all hits you even harder. The extreme close-ups, the loud and energetic score, and the compelling but dry voiceovers result in compassionate, intense and absorbing storytelling. The visceral cinematography certainly matches Lidia’s gut-wrenching story. While this feature certainly isn’t immune to cliches, there are only a handful of predictable moments. Most of the scenes ooze the pain, rawness and secrets the swimmer and aspiring writer has carried with her throughout her entire life. Ever since she was a young woman, she had to suffer physical and mental abuse at the hand of her stern and ferocious father. The only times she could escape the violence were when he was harming her sister and when she dived into the swimming pool. During The Chronology of Water, it becomes clear that water means so much more to Lidia than it does to most people. It represents freedom, happiness and fulfilment. She sometimes also feels that escapism and transformative feeling in writing, especially during the later part of this film when her dream of becoming a writer might be on the horizon. However, it seems that in everything she does, the abuse and her troubled past are present. Despite being beaten up and **** by her dad, it’s precisely that pain and violence that get Lidia off. This not only results in nonstop **** sessions (and secretively enjoying spanking by her swim coach) but also in a troubled view of what an honest, loving, and genuine relationship is. Frustrated that her boyfriend (Earl Cave) is not rough enough as he’s too gentle and tender, she finds comfort in booze, coke and a cocky ****. No matter how freely she feels herself in the water, once back on dry land, she’s being locked up again in a cage of abuse, frustration, repression and self-destruction. Even when an artistic opportunity arrives, that could change her life, her toxic daddy issues come creeping around the corner. So, despite the flaws that come with creating an indie feature as your directional debut, this is a heartfelt and intense story with strong direction and honest and committed on-screen performances.

The lo-fi æsthetic is effective at knitting together disparate points in time without unnecessarily differentiating the moment from the memory, but a bluntly repetitive first act puts Chronology into a momentum deficit it never recovers from.