Cert - 15, Run-time - 1 hour 53 minutes

Director - Mary Bronstein

Linda (Rose Byrne) struggles to stay afloat, looking after her sick daughter (Delaney Quinn) as their home falls apart, while her therapist (Conan O'Brien) doesn't seem to take her seriously.

Linda is dead behind the eyes. It's a look that Rose Byrne has mastered in If I Had Legs I'd Kick You. Hers is a performance that, alongside writer-director Mary Bronstein's film as a whole, understand the feeling of being depressed and tired and empty. The world is piling down on her and she's struggling to stay afloat. The posters in her officer, where she works as a therapist, reading "it always seems impossible until its done" seem desperately unencouraging.

For Lunda, 'it' relates to her whole life falling apart - much like her home where the ceiling has fallen in causing a flood. She, alongside her ill daughter (not properly seen but voiced by Delaney Quinn), move into a motel until the problem is fixed, although work never appears to start. As all of this unfolds her husband (Christian Slater) is away working while her therapist (a withering, dramatic turn from Conan O'Brien) meets her fears that the world is closing in on her with unsympathetic responses.

The pressure at hand, and Linda's increasing lack of energy to deal with things as she's pushed and pulled in multiple directions, lead to a number of difficult-to-watch scenes. Whether missing meetings at the medical centre or one instance where she's talking to a client over the phone unease creeps in, further fuelling the film's central breakdown.

There's an underlying fear and tension to almost everything that happens once the elements are set up, even hidden behind the dark humour. This mixture of tones, accompanying the psychological drama at hand, is expertly captured in Byrne's increasingly exasperated performance - unquestionably deserving of all the awards attention that it's been getting, including an Oscar nomination.

"I'll be better, I promise I can be better" she tells herself as much as anyone else. She wants to try and wants to be better, but at the same time needs a break; some form of escape. Just a moment to lie down. However, these can create further problems down the line. Bronstein's screenplay could easily enter into territory similar to The Lost Daughter, or the anxiety of Uncut Gems; both of which I was reminded of at times while watching, but successfully avoids stepping into them by focusing on the constantly tired yet trying attitude of the central figure and not involving historical regret.

This mental weight is somehow, almost impossibly, captured in the overall tone and style of the film, with wonderful effect from Byrne and Bronstein. Growing the tension at hand, and worry for other characters who trust in Linda, partly stemmed through her own want to help. And yet, the world and everything that could possibly cause further anxiety continues to beat down. Everything leads to more trouble and mental exhaustion with little help or listening ears. This is a film about tiredness and emptiness that's got plenty of weighty spark to its ideas.

Four stars