Kristen Stewart uses physical tics as pointedly as lines of dialogue. Her artificial, artfully rendered oddness reveals something naturalism could not. This is the fourth feature in our Special Issue on Personal Shopper, which you can read in full here.
Kristen Stewart is being watched. The 26-year-old is floating through an empty house: nothing else moves but her, and Stewart exudes a kind of frenzied, studied calm as she passes through the space. She knows she is being observed yet never acknowledges it directly. Her head dips, her gaze flinches. “Awkward” is the wrong word; she’s too deliberate for that, too controlled. “Agonised” is the wrong word, too: her studied, darting physicality sometimes seems pained but not painful. Instead, her movement bypasses language, speaking of nothing but itself.