Mary Bronstein’s return to feature filmmaking, If I Had Legs I’d Kick You, is a raw, occasionally jarring glimpse into the frenzy of motherhood. Anchored by a riveting performance from Rose Byrne as Linda, a beleaguered therapist trying to care for her sick daughter under less-than-ideal conditions, the film offers two hours of almost relentless tension. Despite its draining pace and a few narrative hiccups, it still manages to deliver a powerful message about the toll of motherhood and the fragile, all-consuming bond that connects parent to child.
The setup is chaotic from the start: Linda’s home is essentially uninhabitable, forcing her to retreat to a rundown motel, and her husband is absent, offering more complaints than solutions via phone calls. Bronstein throws viewers right into Linda’s headspace, using tight close-ups, frenetic editing, and overlapping conversations to keep our nerves frayed and our sympathies engaged. It is undeniably stressful, but that is part of the film’s point; motherhood often is.
One of the film’s most effective choices is how the child is partially withheld from us visually, with Bronstein frequently framing her just out of sight or in partial glimpses. The payoff later on has a quiet but deeply felt impact, underscoring the film’s central truth: we are seeing motherhood from Linda’s perspective, a claustrophobic tunnel of responsibilities, self-doubt, and yearning for any kind of break. Even without giving away details, there is a poignant reveal that makes the mother-daughter dynamic resonate long after the credits roll.
Byrne’s versatility shines as she embodies Linda’s blend of fierce protectiveness and simmering resentment, a woman forced to either stifle her emotions or watch them dangerously spill over. Scenes with her own therapist (played with unexpected dryness by Conan O’Brien) emphasize a desperate need to confide in someone, anyone, who can help lighten her load. Meanwhile, the world around her feels either indifferent or accusatory, from a skeptical motel clerk to the well-intentioned but flawed acquaintances who orbit her life.
For some viewers, Bronstein’s unflinching approach might feel grueling. The near-constant state of crisis can edge into overkill, making If I Had Legs I’d Kick You an exhausting cinematic experience. Yet for many, the almost oppressive tone rings true to the intensity of caring for a child whose needs seem endless. The film has a certain messy realism, excessive at times, but rarely inauthentic.
Ultimately, If I Had Legs I’d Kick You is both a challenge and a reward. Its anxious energy might be too heavy for some, but beneath the angst lies a thoughtful depiction of a woman pushed to her limits, determined to do right by her daughter even if it drains her last ounce of strength. It’s an unsettling journey, with flashes of humor and humanity that keep it from being pure punishment. Though my feelings are mixed about the film’s nonstop stress, Bronstein’s bold storytelling and Byrne’s searing performance left me considering the heartbreak and heroism of motherhood long after the lights came up.