Abuse is so often shown in media as a purely physical thing, but there are many ways it can manifest. Alice, Darling is a drama that explores the psychological toll that an abusive relationship can have. It never goes violent in the film, though it is not at all hard to imagine that the central relationship would eventually evolve into physical abuse. We have Simon (Charlie Carrick) and Alice (Anna Kendrick). She works a corporate job, he’s an artist, everything on the surface looks ideal. But it is made quite clear very early on that their dynamic, specifically from his end, is not a safe and healthy one.
Alice decides to make an excuse of a work trip as a cover to go out on a quaint cabin getaway with her friends, Tess (Kaniehtiio Horn) and Sophie (Wunmi Mosaku), to celebrate Tess’ birthday. They don’t know about Alice’s situation with Simon, thinking everything is great between the two, but they do begin to notice the strange way Alice acts. The way she is always on her phone, acting very agitated, being emotionally distant, even making some comments that rub her friends the wrong way. However, the truth eventually gets out.
What screenwriter, Alanna Francis, and director, Mary Nighy, do a great job with is getting the audience in Alice’s mindset. Snippets of Simon’s words play over and over again in her head like a broken record. We see the way she absorbs every snide remark Simon makes, and twists those insults and lies into something of a personal failing. We see how she will perform various rituals everyday, just to make sure he doesn’t have the opportunity to criticize, and it results in her being this person who is always on edge, to the point where it has resulted in hair pulling and an eating disorder. It’s one of the more visceral portrayals of abuse I think I’ve ever seen.
Based on some interviews, Kendrick – who is also credited as an executive producer – has opened up about experiencing similar forms of abuse in her past, and it shows. Her performance here is eerily authentic and played with such honesty and vividness. She is able to take you through these small moments, and convey everything you would need to know as an audience, but while still playing things as real and as subdued as possible. It’s a tricky balancing act, and she pulls it off tremendously. I do wish that Mosaku and Horn’s characters were as fleshed out, but they serve a specific purpose, and they do it well, you believe their friendship.
The film keeps its ambitions at check, keeping all the action in a few locations, and with mostly the main players. It’s a Though, there is a minor subplot about a missing teenage girl in the area around the cabin that mainly serves purely as a metaphor for Alice’s anxieties and state-of-mind. It’s a small scale story, that sometimes begs for further exploration, especially with what comes after the credits roll, but I admire the way it is able to capture a very specific experience about coming to terms with your abuse and the way friendships can offer the strength to pull you through when you need that help the most.
Alice, Darling is a strong and very harrowing piece of filmmaking all around. It’s a subtle film, but it manages to cut deep in the way it handles the interiority of a woman who is in an abusive relationship, feeling stuck and without any semblance of control over her own autonomy. However, it is also a tribute to friendship, and the bonds between female friends who root for and secure each other in a time of need, no matter how intense a situation may be. It’s very haunting at times, but also very moving. Anna Kendrick delivers one of her very best performances here, and it also showcases a promising future for Mary Nighy, who is making her feature debut after working the rounds on shorts and television over the past decade. I think there’s a lot of value in a film like this, a lot that I think people – mainly men, if we’re being honest – can learn from.
Alice, Darling is now out in theaters.