Promising Young Woman Review

Promising Young Woman, the sensational film from writer/director Emerald Fennell, is not a story of a woman’s triumph over the callous, toxic men that surround her. So, if you are planning on watching this film to see its leading lady Cassie (the incredible Carey Mulligan, proving herself to be one of the best actresses in the game today) stick it to the man, you will leave disappointed. Not that Cassie doesn’t get her licks in – she does – but that’s not what, ultimately, this movie is about. No, Promising Young Woman is a revenge tragedy in five acts, unflinching in telling a story that can not and will not have the uplifting, happy Hollywood ending we all want it to have. Because Fennell is unwilling to sell us that story one more time when she knows that’s not really how things work when it comes to sexual assault, white men, and the institutions that are consistently willing to give them second, third, and many more chances.

Promising Young Woman is also a very difficult film to review, because in order to back up my assertions in that opening paragraph, I would have to reveal a host of spoilers that I’m not comfortable revealing (especially since, currently, the only way to watch the film is to buy it on demand due to the Covid restrictions throughout the US, and I suspect many folks are waiting to hear if it’s worth the hefty $20 price tag before diving in). So, with that in mind, I’m going to do my best to convince you this film is worth paying for without spoiling the plot – which is better experienced as blind as possible.

So, what makes Promising Young Woman so damn good? Well, it’s the combination of several key elements that blend together brilliantly and pack the perfect punch. Fennell has created the perfect palette of sight and sound for her story: bright, vibrant colors splash across the screen, highlighting the femininity of its leading lady (so often, women in revenge tales are styled with masculine tones to drive home that their actions are traditionally coded as male), and the pop soundtrack belies the dark nature of many of the film’s key scenes (although there is one incredible song choice during the film’s falling action that both highlights the main theme of the story in blinking lights while still feeling perfectly in step with what is occurring – you’ll know it when you hear it, especially if you’re a musical theatre fan). The film itself is an ice cream sandwich of genres, a dark comedy thriller with a rom-com center and another dark comedy thriller cookie on top, perfectly balanced, albeit a bit sour at the end – manipulating the audience to play along until twists and turns take things to the only possible ending.

And then there’s Mulligan’s portrayal of Cassie, who is one embodiment of the title – a young woman who dropped out of med school for reasons unknown (or, rather, for reasons unaccepted and confusing) to those in and around her life, moved back home with her parents (who would love to see her find a job worthy of her intellect and talents to leave the nest), and picked up a job as a barista at a local coffee joint (which she hates, although she does like her boss – an only real friend – Gail, portrayed by Laverne Cox). As you likely deduced from the film’s commercials, Cassie spends her evenings pretending to be wasted at bars, waiting for self-proclaimed “nice guys” to offer to take her home. When they make a move to sexually assault her, she springs into action, turning the tables on them. Playing these marks are a who’s who list of some of entertainment’s most famous nice guys of the past decade or so (Sam Richardson, Adam Brody, Christopher Mintz-Plasse), helping drive home the point that just because a guy looks kind, charming, or unassuming, you can’t judge a book by its cover. Mulligan navigates this complex web of Cassie’s life effortlessly. We are slowly let into the backstory surrounding her choices to give up her dream career and become a vigilante of sorts, and Mulligan makes sure never to fully tip her hand.

And Mulligan never makes Cassie fully likeable. We empathize with what led Cassie to embark on her quest, and we absolutely understand her reasoning behind it, but Mulligan never asks for our sympathy. Her Cassie accepts her choices, is not about to change her path, and continues to walk down it even when it’s clear this isn’t good for her, mentally, physically, or emotionally. Similarly, Fennell resists the urge to ask her audience to accept all of Cassie’s actions. In fact, I would argue that, by the film’s end, we should be actively rooting against Cassie’s mission. After all, Cassie had so much promise, and this is where she’s ended up? What a waste. No one would have asked her to go to the lengths, risk what she’s risking, to make the points she’s trying to make. But, if not Cassie, then who? Should anyone take these risks?

The film has a lot to say about sexual assault, treatment of victims and perpetrators, and how the voices of women are so often silenced out of society’s fear of “ruining a promising young man’s life.” Why we don’t afford the same thoughts and weight to the life and psyche of a promising young woman is a question that hangs over the film from start to finish, and while Fennell doesn’t spell out her answer, she certainly insinuates that it is exactly what we think it is: Because society doesn’t see men and women as having equal worth. Damning but, sadly, true.

Promising Young Woman is the type of film that lingers with you for days after you finish watching it, asking you to turn your own reaction to the story, ending, and themes over and over in your mind. And, to me, that’s the best kind of film – one that doesn’t ask easy questions and doesn’t provide easy answers. But, with excellent work from both Mulligan and Fennell, this is a film that needs to be seen, digested, and discussed. Give it a look. It’s worth the $20.

Promising Young Woman is now playing in select theatres – however, due to the current pandemic, Pop Culture Maniacs does not endorse seeing films in public theatres. The film is also available on demand.