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The Rippling, Tumultuous Flow of The Chronology of Water

Kristen Stewart’s directorial debut is exactly what I expected, which is to say, not at all what I would anticipate for a person’s first feature. Stewart has a very singular personality and perspective, and I figured that would translate into a very distinct directorial style -but I didn’t know exactly how it would manifest. As it turns out, it is a perfect distillation of her character and instincts in cinematic form -uncompromising, organic, a little bit eerie, experimental, and beautiful; a fairly enrapturing movie that speaks to a vivid talent with an incredibly promising future behind the camera.
The Chronology of Water is not, as I assumed, the biopic of an Olympic swimmer. It’s not my fault, the title and imagery associated with this movie since its debut at Cannes last year has fostered that supposition. It is about a person who aspires to that, but the dream is dashed relatively early on -and unlike in conventional biographic films- is never picked up again as some grand resolution. The swimming is still important, but in a personal, psychological sense which Stewart is apt at illustrating in evocative ways.
It is the story of Lidia Yuknavitch, played by an astounding Imogen Poots -more famous as a writer and teacher- and her extremely troubled and turbulent life, marked by drug addiction and alcoholism, destructive behaviour and toxic relationships, much of it stemming from the frequent abuse she suffered at the hands of her father alongside an apathetic mother. The film follows her childhood, her outlet in water-sports, and her long university career that transitions from athletic to artistic, pursuing writing and literature under the tutelage of Ken Kesey (Jim Belushi) -and her evolution in this field up to the publication of the book on which the film is based, struggling against her demons the entire time.
Stewart allows her audience access to Lidia’s inner monologue, though without conventional contextualization or neat narrative form. It is like an organized stream-of-consciousness, following her life chronologically but, as the title would suggest, like water -with ripples of moments just past or just to come, the voice focusing in on feeling rather than details. Lidia is a person with deep, complex, and passionate feelings and Stewart encapsulates well that effort to comprehend them, so frayed as they are by her experiences. A fellow student Philip (Earl Cave), who becomes her first husband is the kind and sensitive artist type whom Lidia likes some of the time but then violently resents for these perceived weaknesses in his character, subconsciously informed by the way her father behaved. It’s a great and rare illustration of the ways in which some women can be instruments of toxic masculinity when their only model for men is defined by aesthetics of violence. Lidia will have gotten over this by the time of her second brief and impulsive marriage -to a performance artist played by Tom Sturridge- but it relates well to her messed-up psychological state, in which the only figure she can commiserate with is her older sister Claudia (Thora Birch), likewise abused.
There are a couple mirrors to the state of the sisters of Sentimental Value in this, but that emotional connection isn’t so high a priority for Stewart as are the ways that Lidia herself deals with her issues through the peaks and valleys of her journey. It should be noted that Lidia is a very headstrong character, standing up to her father -played by an imposing Michael Epp- when she decides to leave home. She is quick to realize her own power, it is not the reckoning but the wounds that follow her. Stewart plays a lot of the beats of both pain and eventually pleasure and joy with vivid ambiguity -snapshot image collages of sensations under Lidia’s ramblings that act as direct allusions without being so explicit. Some of these early on articulate the rage and horror of her situation mitigated by swimming. But there are cathartic mirrors later. Sexuality is a key theme, Lidia’s curiosity is emphasized as perhaps its own antidote to abuse. Of particular note is an exploration of her bisexuality during a college tryst with a couple classmates -and Stewart demonstrates a perhaps predictable affinity for sensual composition and intoxicating editing through an erotic sequence here that conveys well the enrapturing sensation of sexual discovery.
Stewart’s editing is sometimes a bit too frenetic and abrupt -she might cut away to a new scene in the middle of a beat or conversation, halting the music in its tracks as well. But other times it is quite breathtaking in the ways it connects an emotional idea and moves the story along without resorting to traditional narrative tools. When its flow is seamless the effect is really captivating. And Poots is too, giving perhaps the best performance I’ve seen from the underrated actress. Lidia is a very difficult character -especially where it comes to her addictions, falling into toxic patterns and being quite abrasive at times. It’s a very honest depiction that reminds me a touch of Saoirse Ronan’s performance in The Outrun. And there is a degree to which the movie is open-ended on if she’ll ever break free entirely. But what Stewart and Poots so excel at is showing her true character and creative drive bloom as she develops her voice as a writer -discomforting to some in its emotional vehemence, but clearly brilliant. As mentor to these efforts, Belushi is also surprisingly really good as the acclaimed author, carrying his own traumas with which he can relate to Lidia and making for a solid foil that also resembles many a writing teacher of his disposition (I’ve certainly had at least one).
It is once this section of her life begins that the movie's presentation really gels, Stewart having crafted the perfect stylistic outlet for this particular subject. The movie really appears to be Lidia’s writing made manifest, down to its psychological components that had to be at least in part the invention of Stewart. Its effect on the audience is hypnotizing, dreamlike -though deftly tangible. The pains and tension resonate, the brinks that Lidia is pushed to even when a breakthrough seems apparent. These pieces build on each other as time moves on at a nebulous pace -which too feels deeply in-tune with the nature of our perception and memory. It connects on a more intrinsic level that feels earnest to the material more than it does a pretentious director showing off.
Stewart has earned the right to show off though. The Chronology of Water is a good, unconventional biopic and an excellent debut. It is not the story of a professional swimmer, but that motif of water and the liberation that swimming is for Lidia helps provide a sense of catharsis to a movie that would otherwise spurn formula. It is a difficult watch -what is obscured by style is nonetheless vivid, and it deals with that material responsibly (especially so with the latter scenes between Lidia and her poor excuse for a father). But it is compelling and provocative, stunningly acted by Poots, unpredictable, sensational, and graceful -even through the torrents- like a winding stream.

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