The Chronology of Water is a candid and emotionally jarring drama of a woman who’s grown up in a sexually abusive household, and in her formative years as an adult, found solace in exploring her sexuality, drugs, alcohol, pain, and her connection to water.
Kristen Stewart’s ambitious directorial debut, The Chronology of Water has been a film in the works for many years. Adapted from the 2011 memoir of the same name by Lidia Yuknavitch, Stewart first spoke of bringing this story to life in 2018 during Cannes Film Festival.
The memoir itself is a series of fragmented vignettes throughout Lidia’s life in no particular order, giving readers short bursts of these intimate and raw moments of her life. It’s honest and fearless, and doesn’t ever try to shield the readers from the harsh reality she’s had to face. With that said, the biopic is almost verbatim. Co-written by Stewart and Andy Mingo, the screenplay didn’t stray too far from the original text. Yukanvitch’s storytelling is so colourful and lively, that while they could have easily taken creative liberty, keeping to the chaotic nature of the narrative and its grit aids in the film feeling true.
Split into five chapters (namely some of the chapters in the book), the film painted a vivid picture of who Lidia (played by Imogen Poots) was or claimed to be. Perfectly capturing the same hurt, grief, urgency, anger, and pure unadulterated sex the book bleeds through its poetic prose on screen.
But this film wouldn’t be what it is without Imogen Poots, who is exceptional in this career defining role. She captured the complex essence of Lidia, bearing her soul and every beautiful and ugly part of her on screen. Poots is able to seamlessly evolve through the different periods of time, shedding the skin of each version of Lidia, while still maintaining elements of the person she once was and letting that linger in her performance through the film. We see her develop into her teenage years, watch as she struggles with trauma throughout her adulthood, grieve an unspeakable pain at the loss of her child, jump into one tumultuous relationship after another, develop her genius voice as writer, use her knowledge to be a dedicated teacher, become a loving mother, and so much more, and that’s all due to the unforgettable performance Imogen Poots delivers.
If the film wasn’t already intimate enough, the keen eye for the intricate details of the way the body moves, the sharp intake of a breath, and the ways hands can tell a story is so abundantly clear. Hands are innately expressive and can say so much with almost no words at all. And Stewart undoubtedly understands the power of these features with the clear close ups and lingering moments on the anatomy of the body and particularly how it moves or stays motionless through water.
Something else of note when watching the film, other than the beautiful cinematography by Corey C. Water, was that the sound felt unusually prevalent, and at times the noise was the only aspect of the film that felt present. The subtle details of the audio – particularly the sounds of water – violated the senses and crawled under your skin, almost screaming at you and begging you to understand and feel what Lidia feels, as if seeing it wasn’t enough. It transports you to exactly where she was at that moment through your senses alone.
While the story itself is quite heavy and abrasive, The Chronology of Water is able to tell Lidia’s history in a way that feels respectful to her words and her life. The eagerness to dive into these subjects with such vigour and passion is something many filmmakers are too scared to do, but not Stewart; producing a deep-seated film that doesn’t play into the ultimate safe linear route most first time directors set themselves on a path to, and instead puts a hard spotlight on these traumatic moments that women tend to face. Even demonstrating the power of how sex heals, rather than using sex as a tool to sell a film.
And to have such a well seasoned and celebrated actor come in to pour so much of themselves and their artistry into a project like this one is a gift. The Chronology of Water felt reminiscent of everything Kristen Stewart had ever touched in her career. It’s an accumulation of her years working on affluent projects with extensive knowledge in her craft, which lends so much to this strong debut as an all around filmmaker.
The Chronology of Water is an aching film about the inherent violence women are consistently faced with by just being. It’s a genuine picture of the wonders and horrors of living in a female body and the innate experiences that women are too afraid to say out loud. It’s confronting, invasive, and is meant to make you feel uncomfortable, as is the experience of being a woman can so often be.
