Luca Guadagnino’s deliberately provocative new work, After the Hunt, will definitely spark conversation and his many champions will find ways of praising the film, despite how messy (and not real-human messy) and ultimately one-sided it is. And that it doesn’t really add to the #metoo, cancel culture conversation.
Perhaps the most infuriating aspect of the film is just how the filmmaker lulls us into thinking he’s interested in investigating all truths, everyone’s angle and where right and wrong may lie and that gray area in between. And yet, does not. Not, really.
First-time screenwriter Nora Garrett’s smart, if kitchen-sinked, script is about entitled people who realize they’re entitled, (mostly) feel guilty about it, but are too selfish and ambitious to truly move from their respective comfort zones. The film introduces thought-provoking topics like power, privilege, feminism, racism, transphobia and, especially, misogyny—only to skirt truly exploring them.
At the heart of the narrative, set at Yale University, is the question of whether or not a young Black woman was assaulted by her professor. And how another seasoned professor, awaiting tenure, is placed smack dab in the middle of the situation.
Alma Imhoff (Julia Roberts) is a well-respected, highly ambitious philosophy professor married to Frederick (Michael Stuhlbarg), a jaded therapist The couple enjoy throwing alcohol-infused dinners where the conversation is as self-important as it is elitist. Maggie’s bestie, Hank Gibson (Andrew Garfield), is a white, cis, het man who, along with other white, cis, het men, see themselves as the current cultural common enemy. Hank is resentful and reacts in an often-inappropriate manner.
Also invited to the festivities is Alma’s pet student, Maggie (Ayo Edebiri), who adores her teacher, almost to the point of inappropriateness. Maggie also happens to be a lesbian with very wealthy parents who make huge donations to the University. Frederick insists that Maggie is a terrible student and that Alma simply enjoys the hero worship.
At this soiree’, after much pretentious chatter and lots of booze indulgence, Maggie and Hank leave Alma’s home together. Soon, thereafter, Maggie confesses to Alma that Hank assaulted her later that night—we are to assume, sexually—although when Alma asks for details, she isn’t given any. Maggie’s insulted by the question.
Alma finds herself in a sitch where she must not only choose sides–of course she believes Maggie but does she?—but must figure out the best way this won’t harm her road to tenure.
Meanwhile, Hank is fired, his career ruined. Maggie decides to press charges against him. And the students go after Alma. In these Salem-esque times it’s not enough to believe—or want to believe someone, you must also denounce the accused—no trial necessary.
There are a host of interesting things in the film that either go unexplored or are taken to an obvious and unfortunate extreme. One is Alma’s close relationship with Hank. Their final scene together felt so obviously contrived to the dictates of where the plot had to go.
Alma, at one point, wonders, what do you do when you get the brass ring (meaning tenure), which is a fascinating question that never really begets even an attempt at an answer.
A lot of screen time is devoted to Alma’s stomach ailment, which later feels like it was simply a plot device.
Maggie’s intentions (restorative justice vs. vengeance) are never fully probed.
Despite Edebiri compelling performance, her character remains elusive.
Garfield has a few incredible and searingly honest moments where his anger gets the best of him and his true colors are exposed. It’s a brave and raw turn.
Stuhlbarg is a hoot in many of his scenes. Frederick is bored by so much of what he sees around him and he’s not afraid to call it out—even in a milieu where het, white men are better off silent.
Roberts challenges herself in a way we have never seen before. She gives Alma so many shadings, we need only look at her face to know she is experiencing a myriad of emotions. She’s selfish, for certain (she self-proclaims that while calling herself the c-word to her husband). She’s also savvy, and her only loyalty is to herself. Roberts also gets to have her Tár moment, although it’s way too brief.
I didn’t even mind the always exasperated and exasperating Chloe Sevigny.
What I did mind was Guadagnino’s frustrating filmic style, with his odd framing and the need for most of his scenes to be lit so dark you can hardly see facial reactions. In the hands of a less ostentatious and more focused director, like Fincher, the film would have been shorter and more impactful.
In the opening credits, Guadagnino uses the font made famous by Woody Allen. The director has already explained at the Venice press conference about how he couldn’t stop thinking about Woody’s films. “It also felt like an interesting nod to thinking of an artist who has been facing some sort of problems with his being. And what is our responsibility in looking at the work of an artist that we love like him?”
At that press conference he also said, “Everyone has their own truths.” I wish he and his screenwriter had explored that notion a lot further instead of presenting us with the most obvious—and in this climate, safest–outcome.
After the Hunt is being presented Out of Competition at the Venice Film Festival.
