Grace Glowicki’s Dead Lover is a crunchy, stylish, and radical shadow play centered on the classical themes of love, death, and transformation. Shot on 16mm Kodak film in a Toronto studio, the film consciously evokes the intimacy of Black Box theater, an aesthetic rarely explored in modern cinema. Glowicki uses minimalist sets and stark vintage lighting to spotlight her tiny ensemble of performers, creating an emotional closeness that feels rough and confrontational. Like Lars von Trier’s Dogville, Dead Lover rejects spatial realism in favor of captivating performance-driven storytelling.
Its story follows a lonely, love-starved gravedigger whose life of loneliness and decay is disrupted when she meets the man of her dreams, sparking a heated romance that briefly pulls her out from a sickly cloud of gloom. Tragically, their affair is cut short when he seemingly drowns at sea, leaving her heartbroken and desperate to bridge the divide between life and death. What follows is a wildly comedic and grotesque journey as the gravedigger embarks on bizarre, madcap experiments to resurrect her lost love. Her attempts to defy the inevitable blur the lines between the grotesque and the tender, offering an absurd yet poignant meditation on how far one will go for love.
At its core, Dead Lover is a story of classical dualities: love and death, beauty and grotesqueness, the fluid and the fixed. Glowicki approaches these themes with a distinctly queer and transgressive perspective, presenting human bodies and identities as fluid and interchangeable. The film helps to normalize trans visibility through subtle yet radical choices, eschewing overt declarations in favor of casual subversions of gender and sex. Bodies are portrayed as malleable, with fingers, genitalia, and organs all shifting roles in ways that are both surreal and very human.
This exploration of transformation feels particularly timely. In a cinematic landscape dominated by lush, Gothic, and German Expressionist revivals like Nosferatu and Poor Things, Glowicki’s film emerges as a trans, anarchic younger sibling—the punk outsider who shows up for Christmas with a shaved head. Where other films revel in opulence, Dead Lover strips everything down to its emotional and aesthetic necessities, offering an unfiltered experience that feels alive with queer energy and a DIY spirit.
Central to the film’s emotional resonance is Glowicki’s gravedigger—a loveable, tragic figure whose constant motion embodies the liminal space between love and death. Her relentless determination to resurrect her lover drives the narrative, reinforcing the film’s central idea: transformation is inevitable, whether through love, grief, or death itself.
Glowicki’s script oscillates between shocking humor and poetic beauty, often in quick succession. One particularly crass moment—a character expressing the desire to eat another’s poop “like a banana”—is jarring enough to momentarily alienate the audience, but it’s immediately followed by the most beautiful, poignant words/motif in the film. This interplay between the grotesque and the sublime mirrors the gravedigger herself, a character who is both horrifying and yet.
The film’s raw, punk energy is amplified by its collaboration with U.S. Girls, whose music underscores its emotional depth and chaotic intensity. As a Toronto-based writer, I’m acutely aware of the cultural significance of this partnership, which brings together two uncompromising creative visions. The soundtrack not only complements the film’s tone but elevates it, adding another layer to its visceral impact.
Dead Lover is an outrageously comedic and transgressive love story about a gravedigger who attempts to resurrect her drowned lover through bizarre botanical experiments. Grace Glowicki’s exciting film blurs the lines between beauty and grotesqueness, life and death, crafting a visceral, punk-tinged quilt of grief, transformation, and the lengths we’ll go for love. With its bold Black Box theater aesthetic, queerness-infused storytelling, and crude edges, Dead Lover is a brash cinematic standout that challenges the boundaries of love and death.
Summary
Grace Glowicki’s ‘Dead Lover’ is a scrappy and transgressive exhumation of the fine line between beauty and the grotesque.