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In the spring of 2015, my life split in two.
The night exists in my memory only in bright, hazy shards.
I can remember his hands on me.
I will never find the memories of that evening wholesale, no matter how hard I try.
Each of the 12 30-minute episodes proves adept at wrenching hearts and evoking laughter in equal measure.
One of the most immediately striking things aboutI May Destroy Youis its tone.
Memory provides fertile ground forI May Destroy You.
It skitters, it illuminates, it darkens, it obscures.
The direction is lucid, employing a camera that is both curious and kind.
But what I keep coming back to when I think ofI May Destroy Youis Coels performance.
Shes wild, charismatic, yearning, and able to shift emotional states on a dime.
Often, trying to find accurate language to encompass the totality of rape feels impossible.
How can you make sense of the physical remembrances that reverberate back to that night?
