‘If I Had Legs I’d Kick You’ movie review: a stunning, deeply uncomfortable experience
Motherhood is the central theme of Mary Bronstein’s deeply uncomfortable black comedy, but it’s motherhood at its most frustrating and stressful, an endlessly challenging no-win situation with no exit ramp in sight.
Writer-director Mary Bronstein, a relative novice, has broken out with a film that deals with what might be called domestic issues, but feels like a grim, death-defying thriller. Rarely have the challenges of maternity been presented in such an uncompromising and unsentimental way, as represented by a character who is imperfect, but always relatable, sometimes disturbingly so.
Linda (Rose Byrne) is a psychotherapist, married and with a young daughter (Delaney Quinn) whose name, oddly enough, is never given, and whose face is never seen until a brief glimpse in the final scene. The little girl is suffering from an unspecified, non-life-threatening disorder that requires a permanent feeding tube and an electronic monitor while she sleeps, as well as regular medical appointments.
Linda’s husband (Christian Slater) is frequently away for work, so Linda deals with the situation on her own. She is in a continual state of stress over her child’s illness, parenting in general, her work, and the seeming impossibility of getting anyone in her life to listen to her. In her limited spare time, she tries controlled breathing and other calming techniques, with limited success.
The lead performance by Rose Byrne has drawn a great deal of positive attention and Best Performance nominations, and with good reason. With Byrne’s character as the central focus in virtually every scene, the film serves as a showcase for her considerable talent.
The storyline calls for an endless range of emotions, moods, and attitudes, ranging from subtle or unconscious reactions to furious or desperate outbursts, all of them captured perfectly by Byrne in a naturalistic performance that provides a warts-and-all portrait of a well-intentioned parent stretched to her limit. The camera remains almost claustrophobically focused on Byrne in every scene, forcing the viewer to not only see her emotional state but also to almost drown in it.
Linda is seeing a therapist herself (played by comedian Conan O’Brien in his first movie role), a doctor whose careful professionalism does not quite hide the fact that he finds Linda annoying and her problems trivial. Linda’s efforts to manage her daughter’s health concerns are largely hindered by disapproving and judgmental medical staff (director Bronstein takes on a minor role as the child’s physician), oblivious teachers, and even her own husband.
Linda routinely accepts some blame for her problems, but the film leaves it up to the viewer to decide how much she is at fault. After a difficult day, Linda comes home to find water seeping into her apartment, just as a flood crashes through her ceiling from the floor above, and she and her daughter are forced to move to a hotel until the damage is repaired.
There is more insight into Linda’s state of mind as the story unwinds, and in a variety of ways. Some of her patients have difficulties which correspond to Linda’s, although she remains oblivious to any similarities. When she sees patients, she shows insight into their problems, which she is unable to apply to her own, and gives advice that never occurs to her to use in her own life. One of her more distraught patients becomes something of a parallel for Linda, and foreshadows the direction Linda will take.
The hole in her ceiling begins to appear in her dreams and fantasies, taking on a mystical significance as a portal through which her darkest fears will enter, and similar symbolism is drawn from her daughter’s intractable illness. A brief respite from guilt and stress comes from her friendship with her hotel’s slightly eccentric manager, believably played by A$AP Rocky, before the details of her life catch up to her once more.
Film techniques, including close-up cameras that track Linda everywhere, and a subdued musical score that sets an increasingly tense mood, mean that the audience doesn’t so much watch Linda try to cope as experience it with her. Combined with Byrne’s exceptional work, the approach makes it possible to sympathise and appreciate Linda’s perspective, even in situations where she is likely misguided; the film isn’t about being right or wrong, it’s about a mother doing her best and seeing that it isn’t enough. The film makes that situation as intense and frightening as it would be for a woman experiencing it, making the film a stunning experience beyond its superficially ordinary subject matter.
