Child actor to director, Kristen Stewart's journey through film has been star-studded, tumultuous, and now shows signs of her becoming a future auteur. The Chronology of Water is her directorial debut. But be warned, it is a film so difficult to watch that you might find yourself wincing, chomping down on your bottom lip, trying not to scream into your hands as you watch the egregious events unfold on screen.
The film is based on the American memoir of the same name, written by Lidia Yuknavitch, who tells her story of surviving severe parental abuse and neglect. Imogen Poot plays the central character Lidia, in a dazzling performance which is both fragile and audacious.
As a teenager, Yuknavitch finds solace in the only thing that is capable of holding her, of making her feel safe: water. But her success as a swimmer with a scholarship is cut short and the consequences of being raised with violence instead of love begin to manifest in myriad ways in her early adult life.
Yuknavitch swims in a sea of addiction instead, spiralling several times. The chaos eventually chews her up and spits her out into a place which is better than where she was before: rock bottom. She inadvertently falls onto a writing course, discovering that there are other ways to cope that don't require putting yourself on the path to annihilation, albeit without the instant gratification.
On the latter, The Chronology of Water glosses over of Yuknavitch's exploration of BDSM, and her newfound bisexuality. Her relationship with sex and pleasure has been shaped by pain and feeling devalued, a point that is worthy of further exploration to truly understand her. Without having read the memoir, it's difficult to say whether this depiction remains faithful to the book or whether it's underplaying its significance, but it's the only part of the film that feels shy – surprising considering all the other brave choices Stewart makes.
In particular, there's a bold yet bizarre scene which depicts Yuknavitch's short stint in prison. While we're swept up in her drunken tumult, and the rising emotional tension of what led her there, Stewart unfathomably ends that crescendo with Yuknavitch abruptly taking a dump. You can only chalk that down to an attempt to be so raw and real that it ends up coming across as contrived, and well, also distractingly comedic.
Otherwise, the rhythm of the film, told through expert editing that flits between past and present, is something special. Kristen Stewart has orchestrated something that feels like fragments of memory, and much like Yuknavitch's mind, the camera is replicating her dissociation from something too painful to hold.
Romantic drama this most definitely is not (as Wikipedia seems to indicate it is). This is experimental filmmaking, pushing the boundaries on how we show the female body keeping the score of trauma, in cinematic form.
The Chronology of Water is ethereal and memories are depicted as fleeting, but as deep as the water in which Yuknavitch swims to find acceptance.
The Chronology of Water screened as part of the Dare strand at the London Film Festival 2025
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