Certificate: 15 (domestic abuse, very strong language, strong sex). Running Time: 89 mins. UK Distributor: Lionsgate
WHO’S IN IT?
Anna Kendrick, Kaniehtiio Horn, Wunmi Mosaku, Charlie Carrick, Markjan Winnick
WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?
Mary Nighy (director), Alanna Francis (writer), Katie Bird Nolan, Christina Piovesan, Noah Segal, Lindsay Tapscott, Sam Tipper-Hale (producers), Owen Pallett (composer), Mike McLaughlin (cinematographer), Gareth C. Scales (editor)
WHAT’S IT ABOUT?
A young woman (Kendrick) learns of the devastating control by her abusive partner (Carrick)…
WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON ALICE, DARLING?
TW: this review contains references to domestic abuse (prominently psychological).
Abuse comes in many forms, whether it’s physical or verbal or sexual and beyond, but the signs of being abused aren’t always quite so apparent to others. In director Mary Nighy’s debut feature Alice, Darling, a particularly devastating type of mistreatment is put firmly on display, as are its equally insidious side effects that effect not just the victim, but the people around them. For some, especially those who have gone through similar ordeals to what I’m about to describe, it may be a tough watch, and might even frustrate a number of viewers, but there is an ultimately rewarding sensibility which elevates this tense, slow-burn drama.
The main focus of Nighy’s film – from a script by Alanna Francis – is Alice (Anna Kendrick), who seemingly has it all: a nice apartment, supportive friends Tess (Kaniehtiio Horn) and Sophie (Wunmi Mosaku), and most of all a handsome and charming boyfriend in the form of Simon (Charlie Carrick), an up-and-coming artist. With Tess’s birthday coming up, Alice is invited along to spend a relaxing week with her gal pals at a lakeside cabin – but she tells Simon that she’s been called to a sales event at the last minute. This little fib is one of many indications that things are not at all well between the couple, and as her behaviour on the trip becomes more withdrawn and even self-centred, it becomes obvious to everyone – except Alice herself, initially – that Simon has an extortionate amount of control over her, and has warped her mental state into something fearful and entirely dependent on his approval. It’s a situation that Alice herself begins to recognise as she slowly comes more and more out of her shell at the behest of her friends, until she must make a decision about how to move on from her trauma.
The film’s depiction of psychological abuse is haunting, as it quite honestly should be, but the most unnerving thing to watch is how deeply rooted its negative consequences have become inside of the title character’s mind, to where her entire life now revolves entirely around him and him only. Alice, as portrayed through a nerve-wracking lead turn by Anna Kendrick, can’t seem to go a minute without bringing up her beloved Simon, precisely because that’s how he wants her to think; through brief flashbacks, we start to see how he has been poisoning her mind slowly throughout their relationship, from hurtful put-downs and insults, to constantly checking up on her via text messages and going through her e-mails. All of this has put her in a fragile state of mind which has clearly drained whatever personality she used to have, as she refuses to join in with her friends’ fun activities (because he thinks it’s foolish), won’t eat some of the sugary snacks that they make (because he wants to stick to their new diet), and goes into panic mode when she drops her earrings in the surrounding lake (because he bought them for her). It’s often very disheartening to witness, not just because Kendrick’s performance is eerily precise in its manipulated anxiety – which, as I’m sure many reviews have also picked up on, also comes from the actor’s own experiences from being in a controlling relationship – but because the writing and direction by Alanna Francis and Mary Nighy respectively does well to put the viewer close enough to this uncomfortable mindset where you can observe and analyse the situation while also still having sympathy for her plight.
There is also something about how Nighy directs and how Francis writes that gives Alice, Darling a refreshing yet all too subversive edge, hinting at possible directions for it to go in but then interestingly, if slightly frustratingly, proves them to be nothing more than red herrings. Perhaps the most prominent of these is a sub-plot involving a missing girl near where Alice and her friends are spending the week; beyond the blatant symbolism (that of a woman being lost who’s waiting to be found) and a few scenes where Alice herself gets involved with the community search, it’s arguably inconsequential to the main plot, and is even unceremoniously dropped during the third act. The script even plays around with the “Chekov’s Gun” trope as it introduces an item, in this case an axe – sorry, I mean a maul – in what is clearly set-up for an important part to play in the climax, which it does but not in the way one might expect. Admittedly, it’s easy to see why this start-and-stop approach to setting up these red herrings can leave certain viewers frustrated, because it does go out of its way to build them up only to end up doing little or nothing with them, but the pace is gentle enough to let these moments sink in, for even though they may not be entirely necessary, the filmmaking allows the viewer to at least consider their wider implications.
While it perhaps could be tighter in its storytelling, and maybe not so light in other areas, Nighy proves herself to be quite an engaging filmmaker that allows her central focus to be dissected in as many ways as she can, and Kendrick delivers some of her finest work as an actor in a deeply unsettled lead performance that’ll likely check a few boxes with other survivors of abuse. For them, though, I can imagine that it can be tough to watch someone like Alice go through an alarming ordeal thanks to the horrific treatment she’s been subjected to by her quietly menacing lover. However, it probably should be seen regardless, just to demonstrate the signs of a psychological grasp upon a person that anyone, whether you’re a friend or a family member, should always recognise.
Although imperfect, Alice, Darling is an effective small-scale drama that earns its keep through a quietly devastating study of one of the most insidious things one person can do to another.
SO, TO SUM UP…
Alice, Darling is an effective small-scale drama that eerily demonstrates the psychological consequences of an abusive relationship, which are neatly conveyed through Mary Nighy’s gentle direction and Anna Kendrick’s career-highlight performance, although the script occasionally slips when it tries to subvert expectations with some unnecessary red herrings.
