The Promise of a New Type of Hero

“It’s every guy’s worst nightmare getting accused like that!”

“Can you guess what every woman’s worst nightmare is?”

Movie nerds love to operate within the strict binary of “films” vs. “movies”. It’s generally understood that movies are movies and that films are works of art, but as the landscape of the film industry evolves and as directors and writers adapt to ever-changing expectations, the lines between “film” and “movie” have never been more impossible to define. Every so often, a cinematic treasure comes along that does not fit into any particular genre or binary opposition, and every so often we watch a movie that makes us question the very foundation of cinema, of art, of justice, of morality. 

If movies are for the masses and films are for the experts, I wonder where a piece of cinema as shocking and scathing as Promising Young Woman would land. This film does not seek to please the general public, nor the pretentious film bros (as illustrated in the film by Christopher Mintz-Plasse-McLovin) who gate-keep and authorize what is considered good and what is considered bad. This film was all at once bitingly hilarious and gloriously grim—the perfect ratio for a dark comedy made with emotion and intention. If you have any amount of a soul, Promising Young Woman is the kind of film that will make you feel something, and whether the sensation is pleasant or not is up to the viewer. To this viewer, one who has observed and experienced first-hand the insidious nature of male-kind, watching this story unfold filled me with a rapturous, cathartic satisfaction. 

The dangerous kind of satisfaction that makes your heart race and your face feel hot, the scratch an itch until you bleed kind of satisfaction. After almost a year of living in a pandemic, after almost a year of watching hundreds of thousands of people die and others live their lives normally, this film, and its unapologetic, unbound fury came into my life at the exact right time. There is an equal amount of ferocity and restraint displayed in this film, a combination that makes this appropriate viewing material as modern society rapidly deteriorates around us. Carey Mulligan’s performance as the fearless Cassie was effortless and cool, in a way that was intoxicating and effectively, terrifying. From her cold stare directed toward the cat-calling construction workers, to her spitting in her customer’s coffee, our protagonist showed how bored of subtlety she was. She consistently proved that she was one step ahead, that she knew more than she’d dare reveal—which is exactly what I crave from an antihero. I knew Bo Burnham and his infectious charm would make me fall in love with him, but I didn’t know how much I would fall in love with Carey’s character. Every interaction and confrontation she engaged in was either devastatingly funny or brilliantly brutal, but in her moments of solitude and interiority, she was drowning in emotional depth. She’s likely to be a polarizing figure, but certainly not one we should forget anytime soon. 

In just 1 hour and 54 minutes, Promising Young Woman details the tragic plight of so many women who have been taken advantage of, but the approach here is quite different from previous takes on the rape-revenge story. It is presented with a grave sincerity, but also a whimsical magnetism. It doesn’t aim to merely condemn the patriarchy, much like Cassie, this film seduces an unsuspecting audience into a troubling but necessary reckoning. Pretty much every woman I have known personally, has been taken advantage of by a man. And every woman I know who’s been harassed or abused has, mostly out of necessity, remained quiet and polite and respectful. On the opposing end, I have met many, many Nice Guys who have proved themselves to be unabashedly creepy. Cassie is the antithesis and the antidote to all of this. And watching her carry the bottled up rage of so many women who know her pain and then release it upon the conditionally Nice Guys who fell into her trap was extremely gratifying. She very quickly coaxes them in, assuming the role of the prey, then flips a switch and becomes the predator just as easily. She never forces anyone into an uncomfortable situation, she never presents herself as a threat, she simply opens the door for people to be educated, and perhaps inspired to live their lives differently. She is a driven but broken woman, one who embodies pure, unadulterated female rage in a way that I haven’t seen since Rooney Mara’s portrayal of Lisbeth Salander in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. To personify both fragility and terror at the same time is a challenging task, but one that Carey Mulligan was more than up for. As you sit and watch this film, there is a sense of unease and uncertainty that begs to be felt. Even as we watch our protagonist successfully deliver the dish best served cold over and over again, one can sense that danger is just lurking around the corner.      

(SKIP THIS PARAGRAPH TO AVOID SPOILERS)

The moment where everything changes, where, for minutes on end, our hero claws and fights her way to survive, only to be barbarically killed by the man she despised the most, made me feel appalled and defeated. To be dealt an unfair demise from a film that I was so enamored with, was a disappointment that felt achingly familiar. The first betrayal was expected, but never-the-less painful, as Bo Burnham’s Ryan was proven to be cut from the same cloth as Cassie’s enemies. The suspense only grows from there, but you can anticipate the flames of revenge rising as Cassie enacts the final phase of her plan—or so we think. The hardest scene to watch, the one that will divide and nauseate audiences, is the one where Cassie is slowly, mercilessly killed. But understanding the complicated nature of this film, believing in its message and its cruel doses of reality, I knew there was something else coming. I felt as if I held my breath during every scene that followed her death, waiting for the final twist of this tale to present itself. When the cops arrived at the wedding of the rapist turned murderer, I beamed with joy. It was the exact, perfect ending for this wretch of a human being, who was always meant to rot in prison. It was gut-wrenching, but it was as it should’ve been. The entirety of this film is spent flirting with danger and discomfort, it only makes sense that justice would be served with a side of injustice. As much as I would’ve loved for Cassie to leave the bachelor party in a fiery rubble, covered in the blood of the rapist, that just isn’t believable. And for a story that was so dead-set on exposing the truth, the fantasy where the girl gets away with murder just isn’t plausible—much like the scenario in which a rape victim can escape by simply overpowering their abuser, a narrative pushed by prosecutors and perpetuators of rape culture, this is almost never an option.

This tumultuous tale of revenge and absolution ends exactly as it begins, with a wink and a nudge and an unexpectedly perfect song choice. This film was determined to disarm and discomfort its audience, and yet in the end, every torturous choice was made worthwhile. Writer-director Emerald Fennell’s new classic delivered a perfectly poisonous narrative that not only went way beyond my own expectations, but raised the bar for critically examining films altogether. This film will leave a sweet and sour taste in your mouth, and is bound to offend and excite anyone who watches it. The style, the cast, the music, the attitude—make this film instantly iconic, and I’m not just referring to the needle drop of Paris Hilton’s “Stars Are Blind”. Through all of its anxiety-inducing, penance-paying glory, this film accomplished exactly what it set out to do, and so much more.