David Lowery doesn’t make movies—he engineers existential spirals disguised as cinema. From the aching silence of A Ghost Story to the hallucinatory medievalism of The Green Knight, his films don’t just linger; they haunt. Now, with Death in Her Hands, an adaptation of Ottessa Moshfegh’s unnerving novel, Lowery and muse Tilda Swinton are diving headfirst into a mystery where the biggest question isn’t who killed Magda—but whether Magda was killed at all.
The Premise: A Murder Without a Corpse
Swinton plays Vesta Gul, a widow who stumbles upon a chilling note in the woods:
“Her name was Magda. Nobody will ever know who killed her. It wasn’t me. Here is her dead body.”
But there’s no body. Just paranoia, a dog, and a camera. What follows is either a detective story or a descent into madness—Lowery’s specialty.
The director admits the adaptation is a “devious challenge,” and for good reason. Moshfegh’s novel is a slippery, unreliable narrative that toys with perception. Lowery’s task? Translating that unease to screen without losing its eerie ambiguity. If anyone can pull it off, it’s the man who made Casey Affleck a bedsheet ghost and turned Dev Patel into a hallucinating knight.
Lowery’s Obsession: Reality vs. Delusion
This isn’t just another thriller—it’s a thematic sequel to Lowery’s entire filmography. A Ghost Story asked what remains after death. The Green Knight probed the myths we construct about ourselves. Death in Her Hands asks: What if the story you’re living is a lie you’ve written?
Historical context? Think Mulholland Drive meets The Babadook—but with Swinton’s signature otherworldly intensity. Lowery’s genius lies in making the audience question reality alongside his protagonists. Remember The Green Knight’s ending? Yeah, this’ll be worse (or better, depending on your tolerance for existential dread).
The Wild Card: Lowery’s Unfinished Business
Here’s the twist: Lowery’s still editing Mother Mary, his Anne Hathaway-led A24 musical drama. Rumor has it the film’s been in post-production limbo for months. Is Death in Her Hands a pivot—or proof that Lowery thrives under creative chaos? Either way, the man’s a glutton for narrative punishment.
Why This Matters
In an era of algorithm-driven sequels, Lowery’s films feel like relics from a bolder Hollywood—one that trusted audiences to sit with discomfort. Death in Her Hands won’t be a crowd-pleaser. It’ll be a cult classic in the making.
Buckle up. This isn’t a murder mystery—it’s a mindf*** dressed as one.
