Pandemic Productions: She Dies Tomorrow
Amy’s (Kate Lyn Sheil) Eye in the Opening Shot
Contagion, isolation, paranoia, and fear are all words we have come accustomed to this past year. The thought of tomorrow as our last day or someone else's plagues the mind. It grips hold of the thought and never lets it go. Amy Seimetz toys around with this idea in She Dies Tomorrow (2020) where the thought of dying spreads quickly to each character we meet. The film explores the loneliness and all-encompassing dread that comes with thoughts of death. Seimetz asks questions we’d rather not think about like why are we here? What’s after this? Why are we left all alone to figure it out?
Amy Researching Urns and Leather Jackets
The film starts by following Amy (Kate Lyn Sheil) in her new home as she spirals back into her alcoholic tendencies. She’s obsessed with the thought that she’s going to die tomorrow. From looking at urns to making herself into a leather jacket, Amy wallows in this epiphany. Random shots of her with a man named Craig (Kentucker Audley) are sprinkled throughout while on her journey. Then enters Jane (Jane Adams), who denies that Amy’s death is quickly approaching and leaves her alone once again to continue down this hole. But Amy’s declaration has an unexpected effect on Jane and the film soon shows similarities to the world we’re living in now. The idea of dying tomorrow spreads like wildfire as each character comes into contact with another.
She Dies Tomorrow is convoluted and seemingly unorganized at times, but the jarring soundscape and flashing lights all add to the aura of the film. Seimetz has said she “hate[s] exposition,” and that is extremely apparent within this film. We are thrown into the deep with the opening sequence as we become silent observers to the breakdown of Craig throwing glasses and yelling “it’s over. I’m fucking dying. Please understand, I’m not crazy. We had a time, but it’s over now.” His incoherent rambling mirrors Amy’s opening and closing monologue, making time distort and leaving the audience confused. Nonlinear time within films can be tricky, but when done successfully it creates a mind-boggling effect. Seimetz utilizes this technique throughout the film, but it doesn’t always land. Jumping from night to day and back again with no indication that time has passed between the moments doesn’t leave the audience astonished, but rather it has the opposite effect.
The Characters Experiencing Their Lives Through Colors
While some of the experimental aspects of this film don’t work, that doesn’t mean all of them don’t. The flashing colored lights when the characters realize they will – or could – die tomorrow display a feeling of reflection. All of the characters are seeing and hearing what they need to comfort them, yet also terrify them. They are all left frantically repeating “I’m going to die tomorrow,” sobbing, and/or hysterically laughing. These are all natural reactions to finding out that your death is imminent and the use of flashing colors or visions that the audience never sees pick up the slack left behind by the botched attempt of a nonlinear timeline. This is where Seimetz’s artistry and existential views on morality truly shines through. She encapsulates the feelings of apprehension surrounding life and death stunningly.
Jane (Jane Adams) Comforting Her Doctor After He Realizes He’s Going To Die
After these realizations are complete our characters don’t take the normal route of huddling together for comfort. While Jane goes to her sister-in-law’s birthday party, she doesn’t stay long even though Jane mentions that she “know[s] [she] doesn’t want to be alone.” After infecting everyone at the party she goes to the hospital to infect her doctor. The terror spreads from person to person, radiating out from Amy. Jane and Amy are the only two who seek out others to comfort them through their experience, while Jane's brother and sister-in-law seek comfort with each other and their daughter. Seimetz displays these versions to comment on the way some people are oblivious to their suffering and continue to spread it in order to comfort themselves while others stay reserved within themselves or their bubbles.
She Dies Tomorrow is Amy Seimetz’s way of both making sense of the fact that we aren’t immortal beings and questioning the uncertainties surrounding death. She has brought to life the stages of facing the fact that we are all dying. From denial to contentment the journey that Seimetz brings her audience on is tumultuous yet satisfying. And while her work doesn’t always hit the mark, it always leaves you thinking.