If you’re one of the few people, myself included, who watched and loved Rose Glass’s debut, Saint Maud, then you might have some idea of what you’re walking into with her sophomore feature Love Lies Bleeding. But this is also a very different movie. For one, it isn’t a horror movie (or is it?). It’s a love story (or is it?), wrapped in a pulpy propulsive neo-noir crime thriller. The movie dabbles in a range of genres, deploying tropes and archetypes that we’ve all seen before, but it feels like it’s wearing those generic conventions in a way that I’ve personally never seen before, with characters and body types that don’t typically get featured in genres like this. Set in New Mexico in the late 1980s, the movie follows Kristen Stewart’s mullet-clad, chain-smoking gym manager Lou and Katy O’Brian’s Jackie, an aspiring bodybuilder from Oklahoma who’s just passing through. They meet, fall in love, and, well, things go off the rails. If I tell you any more, it’ll ruin a lot of the fun, so I recommend going in with as little prior knowledge as possible. I’ve been a big fan of Kristen Stewart’s for a while now, and she’s at her nervy, chaotic best here, a livewire set off by lust, loneliness, and anger. Some of her lines and line deliveries are so great and off-the-wall, yet she consistently delivers them in a way that’s fully believable. I was also incredibly impressed with Katy O’Brian in what will likely go down as a breakout role for her. As a former bodybuilder herself, she’s the perfect choice to play Jackie, who goes from free spirit with puppy dog energy to roid-rage-fueled desperation, and O’Brian doesn’t miss a beat—it’s a hell of a performance. Both actors imbue their characters with such visceral physicality, in very different ways, that it’s mesmerizing to watch. And speaking of physicality, the movie is, to quote Shea’s Letterboxd review, “very dirty, grimy, and horny.” It’s intensely focused on bodies—how they move and expand and break and change shape, whether out of love or rage or survival instinct. From montages of sweaty bulging muscles set to 80s synths to the open-mouthed desire with which Lou stares at Jackie to moments of explosive action, it’s a very visceral film. At one point, Lou tells Jackie, “I want to stretch you, see how far you can go.” It’s spoken in a sexual context, of course, but I was struck by just how much the line hits at the core of the movie’s thematic concerns. It could almost serve as the movie’s thesis. The movie is very horny, indeed, but it’s also about the extremes to which people will go for love, the way that love and desire can stretch us out into both the best and worst versions of ourselves, and the lengths to which people will go when they’re in the throes of intoxicating, mind-vacuating emotions like lust and rage. It doesn’t surprise me that Glass is so concerned with bodies (bodies that flex, split, stretch, break, bend, ooze), given her previous film is a horror movie. Horror is one of what Linda Williams calls ‘body genres’, along with melodrama and pornography. These are genres that both represent bodily fluids and simultaneously try to elicit some kind of visceral bodily reaction in their viewers, whether it’s jerking tears, jerking off, or just plain ol’ palm-sweating fear. Loves Lies Bleeding is melodramatic, erotic, and horrifying in equal measure. To me, Glass’s movies, and this one especially, feel emblematic of a new kind of body genre, one that encompasses all the fluidity that bodies have to offer. Love Lies Bleeding is grimy, sexy, gross, and violent. It’s also darkly funny and doesn’t pull any punches. It’s both grounded and fantastical, and somehow makes that all work in a cohesive way. The big swings may not work for everyone, but they never feel unearned. And the craft on display here is undeniable. Glass just has a great visual eye and a great instinct for how to use elements of genre. I found it really interesting to read that on both this movie and Saint Maud, she ended up doing reshoots after realizing what was missing when cutting together a first cut of the movie. I think it’s an approach that more filmmakers should be unafraid to take. You often don’t know what’s missing from a thing until you’re in the room putting it together. That kind of flexibility and willingness to go back and re-adjust is clearly working for her, because both of these movies feel very self-assured in a way that not many first- or even second-time filmmakers can claim. Verdict I can safely say that this movie will not be for everyone, but it felt very particularly made for my tastes. It’s bloody and funny and hot; it’s got guns, girls, and gore; there’s tense action and romance that makes you swoon until it turns twisted and toxic. The movie also looks great, with out-of-this-world visual flourishes and a sick soundtrack. There’s beauty and horror in equal measure here, and if that’s not your jam, then stay clear. Thankfully, it very much is my jam, and I was more than happy to go along for the wild ride.