Trigger warning: this article and the film Promising Young Woman deals with sexual assault and the aftermath for survivors. Proceed with caution.
There are also spoilers in this review.
It’s an isolating feeling to hate a movie everyone seems to love. It’s even more isolating when that movie is marketed as a feminist film that dares to call out men’s predatory behavior; but Promising Young Woman starring Carey Mulligan is not the girl-power revenge story it wants you to believe it is.
The film centers around a woman named Cassie (Mulligan) who, well into her 30s, still lives at home with her parents. Each weekend, Cassie goes out to the bar alone, tricking creepy men into thinking she’s a vulnerable drunk woman. The men inevitably “lure” Cassie back to their respective homes, where Cassie reveals that not only is she sober, she also has an insidious plan to scare these men out of their predatory behavior. As we learn of Cassie’s antisocial home life, we discover her trauma comes from her friend Nina’s traumatic assault while the two were in med school. Still partially blaming herself for the attack, Cassie vows to seek revenge for her friend.
While the film’s premise is certainly ambitious, I reject the notion that it makes many coherent points. Of course, many survivors have fantasized about seeking revenge on their attacker (and understandably so) but my first issue is that this isn’t Cassie’s personal journey. It’s certainly plausible that Cassie has gone through an assault of her own and the trauma of Nina’s attack seeped into the lives of those closest to her; however, is it really justice when the victim’s wishes are largely devoid from the narrative? Even after Nina is no longer in the picture (her death is alluded to throughout the film), her voice gets lost among the people seeking justice for her.
We don’t actually see much of Nina in the film. Other than one childhood photo, we have no idea who she was or even how she looked. Adult Nina isn’t present at all––we know only sparse details like where she went to med school, and a vague anecdote about her and Cassie’s upbringing. Though I think this is an attempt to show that victims are often robbed of their autonomy, it felt like the film made Nina’s life largely defined by the assault. Although Cassie delivers a speech about Nina’s life being brutally cut short, nothing is done to establish Nina as an independent person.
Perhaps the biggest issue with the film was the marketing. That image of Cassie clad in a colorful wig, red high heels, and a scandalous nurse’s costume was splattered all over trailers and posters across the internet. The film was presented as a colorful revenge story about taking back the narrative, only to have most of the female characters meet a violent and traumatizing ending.
In pursuit of revenge, Cassie comes across several women who were culpable in the assault. One woman, Madison, who thought of the attack as a “joke” is treated particularly cruelly by Cassie. The two meet up for lunch in a hotel, Cassie drugs her, and allows a man to take her upstairs to a room. Though it’s revealed later that nothing actually happens, this event is still majorly traumatizing. Almost none of the men receive this harsh of a punishment––with the exception of the main perpetrator. Though it is certainly an awful realization that women aren’t always the saviors we hope they are, this scene lacks any ounce of empathy. Madison explains that they were some of the few women in med school and that every weekend was another blackout. We can extrapolate that Madison herself has undergone some degree of trauma from school. The film ignores the fact that many women choose not to be allies to one another, not out of a desire to be cool or fit in, but out of pure survival.
I do think Cassie is meant to be a complex character whose actions aren’t completely justifiable. However, women face the brunt of her rage throughout the film. Internalized misogyny makes its way into the script as we see the women who were silent receive equal punishments to the men who actually committed violent acts.
Despite my many criticisms of the film, I did think the casting was excellent. Many of the attackers and direct witnesses of the assault were portrayed by men from well known and loved sitcoms. It was particularly painful to watch Max Greenfield (who plays Schmidt on New Girl) act as a heartless accomplice to the assault. This serves as a painful reminder that even the men who we trust and love are capable of evil and misogynistic acts.
Unfortunately, this is about where my praise ends. Most of the male characters were cartoons of real men. They said disgusting things about women and seemed to lack any sort of self-awareness about their actions. Though, of course, these lines are drawn from real life, it felt so heavy handed that it almost let the male characters off the hook. Combined with the overly harsh treatment of the female characters, the film’s message seemed to say that it’s up to women to look out for each other because men are incapable––a notion I completely and utterly reject. Men are able to hold themselves and their friends accountable for their actions. In fact, it’s one of the most effective measures of actually preventing sexual assault. The film attempts to make a bleak point about just how many men are predators––but it fails to acknowledge the power that men have for positive change. In a patriarchal society, women physically can’t end sexual assault by themselves. We, alone, can’t scare men, can’t reason with them, can’t judge them out of committing despicable acts. Men, however, have the ability to look out for vulnerable women (and people in general, but this film largely deals with the dynamic between men and women) by speaking up. Omitting this narrative infantilizes men and tells us that they’re never going to be held accountable unless forced by women.
This brings up yet another flaw in this film––the healing for the film’s survivors is largely rooted in punishment for their perpetrators. Certainly, this is one method of healing for many people; a guilty verdict in a court of law makes some survivors feel safer and also serves as a method of accountability. But, in a world that has started to look beyond prisons, can survivors still find healing? Are we saying that the only “justice” for people who have experienced atrocities is rooted in a violent system?
Furthermore, the idea that prison––or any kind of punishment––serves as healing is simply not the whole truth. Victims will continue to feel the painful aftermath of sexual assault long after their attacker is behind bars. Healing is highly individual and needs to come from an internal place. I wish this film had dared to imagine a world where Cassie and Nina could find some sort of peace outside of the lives of their attackers. This is another unfortunate reality that wasn’t really explored: even when attackers don’t face consequences (which is more often than not), healing is still possible.
Finally, I want to acknowledge that many people––women and survivors included––found liberation and power from this film. Sexual assault is a complicated and multi-faceted issue and survivors are not a monolith. Though I didn’t enjoy this film, that doesn’t mean it didn’t resonate with others.
That being said, I think it’s important to hold everyone (women included) accountable for their art. Yes, this is a touchy subject that involves a taboo issue. And, yes, it was created by a woman. That doesn’t make it devoid of problems; we should still engage critically with films of this nature. Seeing an overwhelming number of positive reviews (many written by male critics) for a film that I found incredibly problematic made me think people were unwilling or unable to judge something that was outside their comfort zone. Though women discussing their own trauma on screen felt like a step forward, I am still excited for the day that this kind of art is taken seriously enough to discuss with a critical mindset.