‘The Chronology of Water’ review: Kristen Stewart’s intimate directorial debut

The temptation when considering an experienced actor’s directorial debut is to see it as a glimpse into what matters most to them — or conversely, what matters least. But Kristen Stewart has had such a varied career in front of the camera, memorably finding her place in everything from huge franchises to the indie fringe, that one could imagine her first shot behind the camera being almost anything.

And yet “The Chronology of Water” announces itself as most assuredly Stewart-esque (if one may coin that term) in that, first and foremost, it lives in the personal, as her approach to character often does. Adapted by Stewart herself from a 2011 memoir by novelist Lidia Yuknavitch, the film dives headfirst into the consciousness of a young woman who, over years of trying to establish herself as a writer, navigates a traumatic past, a turbulent present and a future that must make room for the other two tenses. What obviously matters to Stewart is the totality of experience and “The Chronology of Water,” arty and naturalistic in equal measure, is no toe-dip into directing — it’s deep-end stuff from start to finish.

In Imogen Poots, who plays Lidia from high school through motherhood, Stewart gets a career-best turn from this perennially underappreciated British actor. When Poots picks up the role of Lidia after a jagged opening featuring a younger actor establishing a childhood of abuse and abandonment under a scary father (Michael Epp) and weak mother (Susannah Flood), Poots already looks like she lived that prologue herself.

Lidia hopes that competitive swimming is her ticket out. But being in the water can’t negate on-land struggles: addiction, relationship chaos (she mistreats a nice boyfriend) and a devastating loss. She hits reset when she moves in with her older sister, Claudia (a wonderful Thora Birch), who had also suffered their father’s abuse, and enters a creative writing program under a perennially stoned, supportive Ken Kesey, whom Jim Belushi somehow avoids turning into a cliché of rumpled Great Writer wisdom. From there, the glimmers of a more peaceful existence — one fueled by expression, not recklessness — give Lidia hope.

All the while, Stewart treats the collected imagery of her protagonist’s bruised life like scattered jigsaw puzzle pieces with razor-sharp edges. It’s an aggressive aesthetic for depicting painful memories: defiantly nonlinear, accessorized with harsh sound. Sometimes, it feels straight out of film school. But eventually the experimentation comes to resemble the ebb and flow of the narrative on which both Stewart and Poots have a firm grip. It also doesn’t hurt that Corey C. Waters’ 16mm cinematography is so richly textured and easy to fall into, even when what we’re seeing is sometimes extremely discomfiting.

What’s most entrancing, however, is Poots, who brings to bear the fullness of her being without ever tipping over into “showcase” acting. She plays Lidia across nearly two decades, but understands the nuance that makes a high schooler seem older. Of course, that’s also Stewart’s handling — she admires her leading lady’s breadth, even if her direction doesn’t always do Poots justice. Stewart’s eagerness, for better or worse, shakes things up, but more often than not it’s Poots leading the way, letting us in on the vibrating agony of figuring out how, as Lidia puts it, to turn memories into stories.

The temptation when considering an experienced actor’s directorial debut is to see it as a glimpse into what matters most to them — or conversely, what matters least. But Kristen Stewart has had such a varied career in front of the camera, memorably finding her place in everything from huge franchises to the indie fringe, that one could imagine her first shot behind the camera being almost anything.

And yet “The Chronology of Water” announces itself as most assuredly Stewart-esque (if one may coin that term) in that, first and foremost, it lives in the personal, as her approach to character often does. Adapted by Stewart herself from a 2011 memoir by novelist Lidia Yuknavitch, the film dives headfirst into the consciousness of a young woman who, over years of trying to establish herself as a writer, navigates a traumatic past, a turbulent present and a future that must make room for the other two tenses. What obviously matters to Stewart is the totality of experience and “The Chronology of Water,” arty and naturalistic in equal measure, is no toe-dip into directing — it’s deep-end stuff from start to finish.

In Imogen Poots, who plays Lidia from high school through motherhood, Stewart gets a career-best turn from this perennially underappreciated British actor. When Poots picks up the role of Lidia after a jagged opening featuring a younger actor establishing a childhood of abuse and abandonment under a scary father (Michael Epp) and weak mother (Susannah Flood), Poots already looks like she lived that prologue herself.

Lidia hopes that competitive swimming is her ticket out. But being in the water can’t negate on-land struggles: addiction, relationship chaos (she mistreats a nice boyfriend) and a devastating loss. She hits reset when she moves in with her older sister, Claudia (a wonderful Thora Birch), who had also suffered their father’s abuse, and enters a creative writing program under a perennially stoned, supportive Ken Kesey, whom Jim Belushi somehow avoids turning into a cliché of rumpled Great Writer wisdom. From there, the glimmers of a more peaceful existence — one fueled by expression, not recklessness — give Lidia hope.

All the while, Stewart treats the collected imagery of her protagonist’s bruised life like scattered jigsaw puzzle pieces with razor-sharp edges. It’s an aggressive aesthetic for depicting painful memories: defiantly nonlinear, accessorized with harsh sound. Sometimes, it feels straight out of film school. But eventually the experimentation comes to resemble the ebb and flow of the narrative on which both Stewart and Poots have a firm grip. It also doesn’t hurt that Corey C. Waters’ 16mm cinematography is so richly textured and easy to fall into, even when what we’re seeing is sometimes extremely discomfiting.

What’s most entrancing, however, is Poots, who brings to bear the fullness of her being without ever tipping over into “showcase” acting. She plays Lidia across nearly two decades, but understands the nuance that makes a high schooler seem older. Of course, that’s also Stewart’s handling — she admires her leading lady’s breadth, even if her direction doesn’t always do Poots justice. Stewart’s eagerness, for better or worse, shakes things up, but more often than not it’s Poots leading the way, letting us in on the vibrating agony of figuring out how, as Lidia puts it, to turn memories into stories.