In her latest film If I Had Legs I’d Kick You, writer-director Mary Bronstein delivers a raw, heart-wrenching exploration of the challenges of motherhood, mental illness, and the emotional toll of caregiving. Centered on Linda, a mother overwhelmed by the demands of life, the film offers a searing and unflinching portrayal of a woman on the brink of collapse — and a profound meditation on the often-unseen labor of mothers, who are too often expected to carry the weight of the world with grace.
The film, which stars Rose Byrne in an extraordinary dramatic performance, is unrelenting in its examination of Linda’s unraveling, her failures, and the pressure she faces at every turn. But what makes If I Had Legs I’d Kick You more than just another tale of maternal sacrifice is how it subverts expectations, placing the focus squarely on Linda’s internal world rather than the more conventional narratives of her child’s illness or the external forces that contribute to her suffering. In many ways, the film’s radical choices — its tight focus on Linda’s face, its refusal to show her ill daughter, and the overwhelming sense of chaos that pervades every frame — work together to give us a visceral sense of what it feels like to be a mother in crisis.
The Overburdened Mother
From the outset, it’s clear that Linda is struggling. Played by Rose Byrne in a role that demands every ounce of her emotional range, Linda is a therapist, a mother, and a wife, but she is no one’s priority. The film opens with a scene that perfectly encapsulates Linda’s sense of isolation: she’s in a tense meeting with a doctor, discussing the state of her daughter’s severe eating disorder, which requires a feeding tube. Linda is desperate to remove the tube, but the doctor is firm: her daughter must reach a target weight before that happens. This interaction marks the beginning of Linda’s spiral, as she is faced with the crushing realization that she is powerless to help her daughter in the way she wants.
Linda is not just isolated from the medical world; her relationships outside the hospital provide little comfort either. Her husband, a cruise captain, calls occasionally but is largely absent, and when he does check in, it’s to chastise her for not properly managing their daughter’s care. Her therapist, played with surprising gravitas by Conan O’Brien, is a man clearly not equipped to help Linda, and he proves largely ineffective, offering little more than a sympathetic ear as she spirals deeper into despair.
The film’s choice to place Linda at the heart of its narrative is an important one. We are forced to reckon with her emotions, her exhaustion, and her frustration. The camera stays painfully close to Byrne’s face, capturing every flicker of emotion in real-time. At times, we feel like we’re inside her mind, trapped in the chaos that surrounds her, unable to escape her overwhelming sense of inadequacy. The film’s tight focus on Linda’s face allows us to experience her emotional and mental state in a way that is rare for cinematic portrayals of motherhood.
The Absence of the Child
One of the boldest creative decisions Bronstein makes is the choice to never show Linda’s daughter on-screen. At first, this absence feels uncomfortable, even frustrating. We hear the child’s voice, a sweet-voiced Delaney Quinn, but we never see her face. As Bronstein has explained, this decision was made to keep the focus squarely on Linda. The moment we see a sick child’s face, our empathy naturally shifts toward them, and the mother’s emotional journey takes a back seat. Instead, Bronstein chooses to let Linda’s face — and her inner turmoil — occupy the center of the frame.
This creative choice speaks volumes about the film’s themes of invisibility, sacrifice, and the emotional weight of motherhood. Linda’s life is consumed by the needs of others, particularly her daughter, but she is left with little to no space for herself. The absence of the child on-screen becomes a metaphor for Linda’s own erasure — she is so focused on caring for others that she has forgotten what it’s like to care for herself, and, as the film progresses, even her daughter becomes a shadow.
The Chaotic World of the Overwhelmed Mother
The film’s setting, a run-down beachside motel in the Hamptons, serves as a perfect backdrop for Linda’s unraveling. The motel, a place of temporary refuge, mirrors Linda’s sense of transience and instability. Her world feels fractured, as though it could fall apart at any moment — much like the hole in the ceiling that serves as a literal and metaphorical representation of Linda’s mental state. The hole, just like the feeding tube, is something that cannot be fixed easily. Linda is stuck, and everything around her serves as a reminder of the cracks in her life that she cannot repair.
The contractor who is supposed to fix the ceiling is no help, and when Linda deals with a rude parking attendant, her anger and frustration boil over. These moments of frustration, seemingly insignificant compared to the gravity of her daughter’s illness, are all-consuming for Linda. The small irritations become monumental because they are the only things she can focus on. The breakdowns that occur in the film are both large and small — personal, familial, and professional — and they speak to the overall sense of helplessness that defines Linda’s existence.
Linda’s inability to take care of herself or her work is reflected in her mismanagement of a new mother in the midst of postpartum depression. Linda is a therapist, yet she is clearly incapable of providing the same care she offers to her clients. Her emotional disconnect, as well as her inability to help others, mirrors her own internal chaos. She can’t even help her own daughter, and she certainly can’t help herself.
A Desperate Need for Connection
Amidst the chaos, the only person who shows Linda any real kindness is James, the motel handyman, played with effortless charisma by A$AP Rocky. He genuinely likes Linda and tries to help her when she’s at her lowest. But Linda is too consumed by her own turmoil to even notice his gestures. She is disconnected from everyone around her, even those who offer her help.
This sense of disconnection is at the heart of the film. Linda is a woman who is constantly giving, constantly sacrificing, but she has nothing left for herself. The film’s exploration of motherhood — not as a glorified ideal but as a grueling and often thankless task — is a rare and much-needed depiction of the invisible labor that mothers endure. Linda is not a saintly figure but a deeply flawed, overburdened woman, struggling to survive in a world that demands more than she can give.
A Career-Defining Role for Rose Byrne
At the heart of this harrowing portrait is Rose Byrne’s exceptional performance. Known for her comedic roles, Byrne proves herself to be a force in dramatic work, bringing a raw vulnerability and power to the role of Linda. She portrays a woman on the edge with such nuance and depth that the viewer cannot help but feel her pain. The film belongs to her, and it is a testament to her talent that she can make such a difficult character so relatable and heartbreaking.
Conclusion: A Powerful and Unflinching Look at Motherhood
If I Had Legs I’d Kick You is a brilliant, difficult film that tackles the complexities of motherhood, mental illness, and emotional labor in ways that few films dare to explore. By focusing on Linda’s face, and by keeping the spotlight firmly on her, Bronstein allows us to see the raw, unfiltered emotional toll that caregiving can have on a person. The film is uncomfortable and painful to watch, but it is also deeply empathetic, showing the humanity of a woman who is too often expected to sacrifice everything without asking for anything in return.
This is a film that is not afraid to look at the dark, messy side of motherhood — and in doing so, it offers a profound and poignant reflection on the sacrifices, the pain, and the incredible resilience required to be a mother. Byrne’s performance, combined with Bronstein’s deft direction and unflinching script, makes If I Had Legs I’d Kick You one of the most compelling and emotionally powerful films of the year.
