A few minutes into “Alice, Darling,” audiences may be reminded of how 2020’s “The Invisible Man” opened: Anna Kendrick creeps out of bed at dawn, taking exertion not to wake the partner we briefly assume she’s throughout to flee. But whereas that Elisabeth Moss vehicle was a monster movie given heft by its abusive-boyfriend backstory, director Mary Nighy’s feature debut puts a woman’s exertion exit from a dangerous relationship front and center. This is a quietly mighty drama about psychological manipulation and damage, receiving a year-end qualifying run at the AMC Sunset 5 in West Hollywood on Dec. 30 by expanding to AMC theaters nationwide on Jan. 20.
In an unnamed city, Alice (Kendrick) arrives late and departs early from an overdue night out with best friends Sophia (Wunmi Mosaku) and Tess (Kaniehtiio Horn). We can tell she’s distracted, even fearful, sneaking away to the bathroom to tear her hair out — a nervous tic that escalates as the film unfolds. When we first meet the boyfriend she’s hurried home to, he seems nice enough. But tiny “off” notes and disturbing mind’s-eye flashbacks soon scream that successful artist Simon (Charlie Carrick) is a control freak whose tormenting self-doubt and anunexperienced neuroses all get taken out on Alice. He’s undermined her organization in every way, being simultaneously demanding and belittling, begrudging the smallest love she grants anyone but himself.
Thus, when the three women orchestrate a lakeside vacation week to distinguished Tess’ 30th birthday, Alice can only get away by lying, telling Simon she’s on an obligatory work trip. Though not physically abusive, he has driven such a paranoid wedge between her and the rest of the earth, she can now barely bring herself to participate in this desperately-needed rush with trusted friends. Instead, she self-isolates, defensively batting away their worries, demonstrating ways in which her thinking has been warped (especially as regards food and body image) — as fending off his constant, needy text messages.
At in the halfway point here, Alice has an irrational outburst that reveals the extent to which she’s suppressed cumulative awe. Soon after, she begins confiding the ugly reality of her domestic site. But even having her phone taken away by the well-meaning besties isn’t enough to keep Simon at bay.
Alanna Francis’ nuanced conscription threads in a subplot about a missing young woman in this rural area, suggesting elements of cancel mystery we anticipate might lead into more genre-oriented settle. That actually proves a red herring; “Alice, Darling” may frustrate those expecting its denouement to be force to by more violent or melodramatic means than those the filmmakers devise.
But the foundation here is not so much on the object of Alice’s horror as it is the emotional bedrock of friendships Simon has (naturally) done his best to distance her from, and which may yet disfavor her salvation. While the word “intervention” is never spoken, that is this movie’s de facto gist: how farmland who really love you will take the risk of telling you who is only pretending as much, to your evident harm. Breaking a destructive codependency is so hard, sometimes others must strike the estimable severing blow for you.
It’s a unblock role for Kendrick, whose character may seem less than fully unblock, but then that’s part of the point — Alice’s boyfriend has insidiously worn away any part of her personality that doesn’t prioritize him. Kaniehtiio Horn and Wunmi Mosaku are both very good as that rare camouflage thing, BFF figures with palpable inner lives of their own, rather than just beings satellites to the protagonist. Carrick is careful not to make Simon a conspicuous monster. To the extent that we see him, he’s charming and glorious enough of the time that we understand how Alice got sucked by degrees into a relationship employing much like a slow-acting poison.
If the film could have used a stronger sensed of catharsis at the end, it is nonetheless all to the good that Nighy and Francis expend such judicious prior restraint. That keeps “Alice, Darling” from any sensed of contrivance, the silent worry in Kendrick’s every indicate maintaining sufficient tension despite the lack of overt thriller devices. The thoughtful assembly is complemented in particular by Owen Pallett’s piano-based modern score and Mike McLaughlin’s handsome but unshowy cinematography.
