Twilight might have been the greatest misdirect of all time. Hidden beneath the silly overwrought love story and Taylor Lautner’s abs are Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart, who have proven to be two of the best, most interesting working actors in Hollywood today. Pattinson’s so good he’s now the Caped Crusader, and Stewart proves her talents are just as impressive behind the camera as in front of it. Few first time features are better than The Chronology of Water, which goes to deeper places than even the most brilliant directors cannot usually descend to.
Stewart takes on Lydia Yuknavitch’s (Imogen Poots) memoir as her directorial debut. Bold choice: Lydia’s tale is not for the faint of heart, raised by an abusive father (Michael Epp) and silenced mother (Susannah Flood). Her sister Claudia (Thora Birch) bolted when Lydia was young to save herself from those horrors, leaving Lydia to fend for herself. Deep pains like that follow Yuknavitch from swimming, to college, out of college, and eventually to her life’s purpose: writing, cemented on a retreat led by Beat Generation legend Ken Kesey (Jim Belushi), though even that path is as windy as a river.
Lydia’s harrowing tale stands at the movie knife’s edge; it’s so easy to turn her memoir into manipulative melodrama, or torture porn that sucks the life out of the movie. Kristen Stewart really did her homework on this one, and worked out from the absolute truth she must have discovered reading the book: that this is the work of a beautiful, tortured, artist. That title pushes Stewart to make watching The Chronology of Water feel like flowing down a river. Some parts are slow and sedate, but then we double back on ourselves from a wave of memories, messing with the normal current. Then comes the rapids of euphoria and pleasure, but also messiness. That’s usually followed by a waterfall, steep and deep into a wading pool of stillness and unmoving. Her editing gives the movie a feeling of movement while watching her film. We’re constantly forward moving, but not without some flashbacks or segues that divert us a few scenes at a time before we go on. No movie in recent memory better displays how to show a story instead of telling it; we have our beginning and end points, but the path we take to get there is the real power Kristen Stewart uses her talents to execute the film she wanted to make.
She also has a great eye for the right cast. Imogen Poots has been around great films for a while now, but had never quite gotten the chance to prove herself. Stewart’s vote of confidence in her pays off: Poots is electric as Lydia, really inhabiting the character in all her triumphs and shortcomings. Imogen is equally good here in voiceover, in dialogue, and in silence, a triple threat performance that dazzles and demands your attention over and over again. Surrounding her orbit are a terrific set of Christopher Nolan like no name finds and famous forgottens. Jim Belushi is having a ball playing Ken Kesey as an aging drugged out hippie, and I was so delighted to see Thora Birch show up as Lydia’s quiet internalized older sister. I had never seen Michael Epp or Charlie Carrick much at all if ever, and those two are wonderful arbiters of toxic and pure love, as Lydia tries to figure out which is which as she grows up.
A debut that good warrants hopefully many more. What else is KStew hiding in that talent pool of hers? Is she a racecar driver? Piano player? Or is her next movie the Pattinson one: here’s our next Wonder Woman? I mean what else does she have to do to prove it?