‘Woodshock’ – when fashion and film collide
Logline: A young woman devastated by loss falls deep into her dreamland. Verdict: Woodshock is the debut film of fashion designers Kate & Laura Mulleavy, famous for their clothing brand, Rodarte. It follows young woman Theresa (Kirsten Dunst) as she deals with the death of her mother by taking lots of drugs and ignoring, but maybe not ignoring, the romantic advances of her coworker Keith (Pilou Asbæk). Weed dispensing worker by day, drug binging by night – Woodshock’s unfortunately a lot more dull than it sounds. The Mulleavys’ first foray into filmmaking wears its “art film” heart on its sleeve. Each and every scene features people talking to one another through circular dialogue. Lingering silences and weird comments about mothers are par for the course, and at one point, Theresa dresses in her mother’s clothing after three characters say “you look like your mother”, in case you missed it. This self-conscious artsy-fartsy approach isn’t entirely a bad thing – it’s actually quite charming to see a film not afraid to spell out its thematic throughline. Woodshock just revels and lingers in such imagery and pseudo-profound statements for a bit too long for them to retain their power.
Streaming and Availability
Originally released theatrically in limited run then digital HD in late 2017. The film continues to be referenced in programming contexts into the 2020s, keeping its visual language accessible even as the story’s deliberate pacing still divides viewers. Platform rotation has varied, but the title surfaces periodically on services that program indie titles alongside festival circuit revivals. That pattern reflects how Woodshock functions more as a design object than a conventional narrative release, which suits its fashion-world origins and its emphasis on texture over momentum.
Aggregate Critical Reception
Rotten Tomatoes 27% approval (55 reviews) as of 2025. Metacritic score 39/100 indicating generally unfavorable reviews. Those numbers align with the original sense that the film’s imagery outpaced its script, yet they also show how the same qualities that drew fashion admirers repelled critics expecting conventional drama. The gap between the two aggregator scores and the film’s modest $43,682 domestic gross underscores its position as a specialized object rather than a mainstream release.
Legacy and Institutional Interest
Featured in MoMA programming in 2023. No further directorial features from the Mulleavys. The MoMA slot highlighted the cinematography’s play with reflections and symmetry, the same elements that still stand out on rewatches. Woodshock remains their sole narrative feature credit, which turns the film into a singular artifact rather than the start of a second career. That outcome places it alongside other one-off projects by designers who test the boundaries between runway and screen without committing to a full pivot.
Cast Career Trajectories
Asbæk in high-profile series like Foundation (2025 season). Dunst continued acclaimed work in other projects. Asbæk’s later roles, including The Mule in Foundation and appearances in Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom, have moved him further from the Game of Thrones persona that once colored perceptions of his Woodshock performance. Dunst’s post-film choices have reinforced her range across prestige and independent titles, making Theresa read as another chapter in a career already comfortable with interior, emotionally muted characters.
The cinematography still delivers. Reflections, symmetry, and spaced-out geometric lines mirror Theresa’s descent into drug-fuelled synaesthesia with the same precision that first drew notice. Those visual choices remain the film’s clearest achievement, even when the surrounding dialogue stays circular and the narrative stays thin. The Mulleavys brought their Rodarte sensibility to every frame, treating costume and production design as active storytelling tools rather than background decoration. That approach explains why the film retains value for viewers interested in how fashion language translates to moving image.
Comparisons to Lars von Trier’s Melancholia still hold because both films place a grieving woman at the center of stylized collapse, yet Woodshock lacks the dramatic architecture that made Melancholia cohere. Tom Ford’s transition with A Single Man and Nocturnal Animals demonstrated one route from runway to set, but the Mulleavys’ single outing shows a different outcome where aesthetic control outruns narrative control. The result is a film that functions best as a mood piece rather than a character study.
Woodshock sits at the intersection of two industries that rarely share the same vocabulary. Its limited release and modest returns did not deter institutional programmers from circling back to its images years later. For audiences who value design over plot, the film still offers a precise record of what happens when fashion sensibilities drive every choice on screen. For those seeking stronger narrative scaffolding, the same choices remain the central limitation. The tension between those responses continues to define the project’s place in conversations about cross-disciplinary work.
