After the Hunt is one of many films which mistake misery for profundity. In making each of its characters insufferable (to be fair, I think it understands that they’re insufferable; no one in this film is easy to root for), Nora Garrett’s script makes itself insufferable. What makes the film even more insufferable for me personally is that it’s directed by Luca Guadagnino (Call Me by Your Name, Challengers, Queer), one of my favorite directors working today. So many bits of brilliant execution by him are thrown after this less-than-mediocre script and its pretentious exploration of campus politics and sexual assault. On top of that, it’s got a terrific cast all giving it their best effort, especially Andrew Garfield as Hank, the accused professor. Like Guadagnino, I believe they all just wasted a lot of their time and ours.
Julia Roberts stars as Alma, a Yale philosophy professor who tends to get a bit too close to some of her students and Hank. Favored student Maggie (Ayo Edebiri) accuses Hank of “crossing the line” (so much of the actual event is kept vague in order to further the film’s facile conversations surrounding the broader issues at play) and from then on, Alma is thrust into a whirlwind of speculation and rumor. Alma’s wonderful husband Frederik (Guadagnino regular Michael Stuhlbarg) does his darnedest to keep her spirits up, but Alma spirals regardless.
So much of this film is dedicated to watching Alma spiral; her addictions are resulting in real physical pain. Partially because she’s so unlikable, it’s frankly hard to care about her spiraling. But the other half of the movie is filled with these dull and outdated discussions engendered by generational difference, and so neither half of the film brings any kind of insight, levity, or relief. I’m not of the opinion that films need to offer solutions to the issues which they explore, and so I’m glad this film raises questions rather than answering them. However, the philosophical debates simply spin their wheels over the film’s indulgent, interminable two-and-a-half hours. They offer nothing new to the discourse, and they ironically help the film devolve into a less mature kind of whodunnit.
Again, I do want to give credit where credit is due: this cast really is giving it their all, and Garfield in particular really sells this slimy, self-important, bubbled academic without ever feeling over-the-top. I was amused as I was reminded of another instance of some of his best work, The Social Network’s Eduardo Saverin, and the line which could most easily be used against Hank: “Sorry, my Prada’s at the cleaners, along with my hoodie and my ****-you flip-flops, you pretentious douchebag!” That’s one way an actor can display their incredible range: they can convincingly portray both the most righteous person in a sea of moral decrepitude and the least righteous person in a similar sea.
At the end of the day, After the Hunt is, for all its shortcomings, still a somewhat noble attempt to explore sexual assault on college campuses and the ripple effects it creates. Perhaps it would have come off a bit better if this summer’s Sorry, Baby didn’t exist. But the happy reality is that that film does exist, it does explore the topic in a much more nuanced and satisfying way, and it’s quite possibly the best movie of the year. Even if the dour, campier vibes of After the Hunt are more your cup of tea, I’d recommend Sorry, Baby a billion times before I ever thought about this rare disappointment from Guadagnino again. | George Napper
