By John Corrado
The opening shot of writer-director Mary Bronstein’s intense and suffocating but occasionally darkly funny If I Had Legs I’d Kick You is a tight closeup on lead actress Rose Byrne’s face.
She is in a doctor’s appointment for her sick daughter (Delaney Quinn), with some disagreement about her treatment plan. The doctor is kept offscreen, the camera staying locked in uncomfortably close to Byrne, allowing us to observe every micro expression that flashes across her face.
Byrne’s Linda is a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and the film serves as a brilliant dramatic showcase for the Australian actress, who has been better known for her comedic roles. Bronstein has crafted an unflinching portrait of postpartum mental health, with Byrne as our conduit for experiencing everything that Linda is going through.
Linda is not only dealing with a sick child who barely eats and has a feeding tube, but also a husband (Christian Slater) away on a business trip, and a caved in ceiling at their apartment that forces them to move into a motel for several weeks while it’s being repaired. The daughter’s face is kept off-screen, the husband an annoyed voice on the phone. These stylistic touches increase the sense of isolation that Linda is feeling.
Bronstein does a very good job of capturing – and heightening – the stress of everything going on around her. The film is often an overwhelming sensory experience, and intentionally so. At its core, this is a stripped down character study. But the maximalist filmmaking touches, including a cacophonous soundscape of background noises, amps everything up to near Safdie Brothers intensity; think Good Time or Uncut Gems, reimagined as a mother’s slow break from reality.
She is essentially dealing with caring for her daughter on her own, forcing her to seek human interaction with James (A$AP Rocky), who works at the motel. She encounters him during one of her late night trips to buy more wine. But, despite being in the midst of experiencing her own mental health crisis, Linda is also a therapist trying to help others.
Early on, we see her in an appointment with her own therapist (Conan O’Brien), before heading to another office down the hall to start meeting with her own clients. One of her clients is Caroline (Danielle Macdonald), a young mother who is experiencing OCD and separation anxiety from her infant son, his carrier always in their appointments covered with a blanket.
We see the intense attachment that Linda’s clients develop to her, but the dynamic between Linda and her own therapist is also in the midst of changing; after she confides in him that she has been dreaming about him, he has to put necessary distance between them. The casting of O’Brien in this dramatic supporting role is another interesting choice, and it’s fascinating to watch him play the calm voice of reason.
The amount of character problems and moving pieces in the story increase, with the film reaching a sustained fever pitch that feels like a constant buzz. The fact that we remain gripped throughout the nearly two hour running time is a testament to the strength of Bronstein’s directorial choices, and the excellent, compelling acting work from Byrne at the centre of it.
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