I think it’s quite moving that Kristen Stewart’s directorial debut feels almost like an extension of her acting debut through the theme of abuse. The actress has been one of my favorites ever since I saw her in Speak, where, at just 13 years old, she was able to give a performance that many fully grown adults can’t fathom. Over the years, the actress has had her reputation sullied a bit owing to her Twilight stint and the real-life situation that unfolded during the Snow White films. But underneath the star who has been bogged down by media slander, Stewart herself is an enigma, especially to a young woman such as myself. From her acting chops, you can already tell how much is going on underneath the surface, and in her raw directorial debut, she wears everything on her sleeve.
The Chronology of Water is an adaptation of author Lidia Yuknavitch’s memoir that recounts her abusive childhood and her journey to finding herself so many years into adulthood through pen and paper. Apparently, Stewart, who read the book back in the day, was still turning the pages when she reached out to the author and asked if she could adapt it. This was 8 years ago, and in all honesty, I’m glad it took the actress this long to write out her dream. Stewart’s quirkiness (for lack of a better word) penetrates every corner of the bold film. I call it bold, but don’t mistake it for vulgarity or a voyeuristic lens on abusive households. What you get to see are merely glimpses of childhood trauma that shape a competitive athlete who gets mired in sex, drugs, and alcohol.
I think the title of this book played a huge role in Kristen’s imagination. If not water itself, there’s some form of liquid that pans through most of the film, whether it’s blood being washed away on a white bathroom floor, Lidia satisfying her needs, swimming pools, a flask, or just the expansive ocean. You may not notice it, but there’s some form of water all around, almost drowning you in this unusual experience. The storytelling is nonlinear (despite what the name suggests), and everything feels deliberate. But the thing that’s most striking in the technical aspect is that most of the film is shot in close-ups. So much so that sometimes you have no idea what’s actually going on. This is certainly a stylistic choice, and occasionally it gets a bit overwhelming, because there’s so much frantic movement you just want to hold the camera and say “Stop.” But then you realize this is exactly how suffocated and annoyed you need to be feeling while watching a movie about this dark subject matter.
Here’s the thing: I don’t know Kristen Stewart as a person. I don’t even know all the gossip out in the media about her, but after having seen The Chronology of Water, I feel like I know her like a best friend who ends up staying over accidentally after dinner went on too long, you know what I mean? There’s something deeply personal about this film, and it’s not the fact that it’s based on a memoir. There’s as much Kristen Stewart in it as there is Lidia Yuknavitch, which is an extraordinary feat to achieve. But more so because I can confidently say there’s also just that much Imogen Poots in it too. The actress, who plays the lead character, has been around almost as long as Kristen Stewart has. It’s interesting to see an actress direct another actress of the same age with similar experience and enhance every detail about her. It’s not about superiority (looking at some male directors, teehee), it’s about collaboration, and that’s clearly visible in this movie.
I’m not one to shy away from dark themes and difficult-to-digest scenes, but I draw the line at needing to witness sexual abuse. Nobody needs explicit details on the screen to understand how terrifying, painful, and traumatizing such an experience can be, and Kristen Stewart seems to side with me on this. While we see a lot of moments leading up to abuse and the aftermath of abuse, both immediate and long-term, we never actually see the abuse. Yet, there are parts in the movie that are uncomfortable enough to make you want to look away or cry in a corner. This is why women should make movies about women, especially if they’ve got creativity oozing out of their pores.
In The Chronology of Water, Poots gives the performance of a lifetime, going from age to age, frame to frame seamlessly, ebbing and flowing like a river. One second, she’s an athlete; the next, she’s a drugged-up 20-something-year-old college student, but she’s always Lidia. It’s like watching 3 streams (Stewart, Poots, and Yuknavitch) converge into one big river (the film), gushing over the stones that try to stop it. I said the movie is frantic, which would make it seem fast-paced, but on the contrary, it’s very slow and silent on occasion. This is the definition of indie, and there’s something so powerful in the fact that an Oscar-nominated actress is letting her intrusive thoughts take center stage.
The Chronology of Water is stylish, it’s also brutal, and it’s filled with imagery of blood and water, making you feel uncomfortable and horrified, but never enough to walk out on her. Despite her issues, Lidia is a character you end up rooting for because you know why she’s unbearable. Now, the film is a bit on the longer side, and you can definitely feel the runtime in some bits, but I don’t want that to discourage you from watching it. This is unique storytelling, and it’ll definitely have polarizing reactions, but that’s okay; it’s still something worth experiencing. For that reason, despite its flaws, I give The Chronology of Water 3.5 out of 5 stars.
