AFTER THE HUNT

The fact that Maggie's story is questioned at all should set off alarm bells for 'After the Hunt'. Certainly we don't need films promoting the idea that we should be questioning and doubting women who come forward as victims of male-driven violence. This is something, I think, that the film is hyper aware of, with some very careful calibrations in the final act that, if not giving a definitive answer on the actions of the characters, certainly confirms the film's stance on the issue. Along the way though, it walks the very dangerous path of posing endless questions to its audience as it navigates a serpentine hall of mirrors, every character and circumstance more opaque than the last - questions, it becomes clear, that the film has no intention of answering. This can be both infuriating and exhilarating, and either is a legitimate response. One of Guadagnino's greatest strengths as a filmmaker is crafting a strong sensorial experience for his audience, whether that be the erotic propulsion of 'Challengers', the dream-like nature of memory in 'Call Me By Your Name' or the all-consuming lust and longing of 'Queer' and 'A Bigger Splash'. With 'After the Hunt', he wants us to feel uncomfortable and unmoored, constantly having to reorient ourselves within the narrative. The score from Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross is discordant and experimental, the cinematography from Malik Hassan Sayeed invasive and direct, the editing from Marco Costa sharp and, at times, vicious. He's telling us, as he often does, that he wants us to feel our way through the film, but more so than any of his previous work, he wants the journey through to be a deeply uncomfortable one.

And as it should be. This is a difficult subject, how we deal with acts of abuse and how we navigate the "cancel culture" minefield that has emerged as a result. As much as we want clarity, it's often hard to find. What should be clear never is, what should be truth is twisted in on itself, what should be straightforward becomes treacherous. Rather than telling us what to think, 'After the Hunt' wants us to do the work, using the lens of Alma and her actions to interrogate how we might react or behave. It's a decisive narrative choice to place us within the point of view of neither the victim nor the perpetrator, so that in questioning Alma's moral judgement, we have to interrogate our own. Do we believe Maggie? Do we question her? If we do, what does that say about us? Julia Roberts relishes this moral ambiguity, delivering her best performance in years, one that is as intoxicating and alluring as it is thorny and sharp, with a constant undercurrent of dangerous vulnerability. In some ways, 'After the Hunt' becomes a detective story, where we and Alma are putting the pieces together to try to come to some conclusion, only to realise that we're never going to be able to come to one. Where his other films feel passionately subjective, 'After the Hunt', it could be argued, is an experiment in the objective.

This isn't going to sit well with all audiences. Some will seek moral clarity, others will seek a narrative one, and even though I think the film does land on some sort of moral clarity, it only comes in its final minutes, and even then leaves room for interpretation. I would never be so arrogant as to say that those who won't like 'After the Hunt' just "didn't get it"; that's a reductive way to talk about film and creates the kind of definitive devisions the film itself is interrogating. What is more pertinent here is how willing an audience might be to be so thoroughly provoked without a satisfying outcome - or a nice, neat one, at the very least.

There's no question that the film is wantonly provocative (the dialogue I quoted earlier was the centrepiece to the trailer, and hearing it the first time felt like watching a match being thrown into a powder keg), but whether other filmmakers sometimes feel like they're being provocative for the sake of it, Guadagnino is, I think, doing so with purpose. These kinds of scenarios force us to question our moral compass, something we aren't always willing or able to interrogate, but within this heightened narrative, he provides us the opportunity to maybe, maybe sit within it. As with so many of his films, Guadagnino alerts us to the artifice - this is, after all, a film populated by outrageously privileged people, all of whom live in a rarefied world where they can live lavish lifestyles while debating philosophy for a living. Guadagnino loves his indulgences and opulences, but often these are façades for rot, and the façade pasted over 'After the Hunt' conceals possibly the most rancid of moulds in any of his films. But it is still just a movie, so everything can be dialled up to maximum, pushed to extremes and become a petri dish where we can see these stylish atoms crash against one another. There's even a little button, right at the end, reminding us how fake it all is.

In that sense, 'After the Hunt' sits in the tradition of Ancient Greek Tragedy, a work created specifically as provocative social commentary. The characters, all of them, are flawed to the hilt, even Maggie. In some cases, such as Frank, they fall into the ridiculous, especially in the expert hands of Michael Stuhlbarg. It's a morality play without a definitive moral, a series of questions without any clear answers, except for those that we have to find in ourselves.

But what, in the end, is 'After the Hunt' trying to say? Where I landed, after a few days of letting the film sit, came back to that moment between Alma and Maggie, where Maggie tries to back away and Alma accuses her of being overly sensitive. This is a subject the film returns to over and over, the issue of "being oversensitive". What became clear with each narrative twist and turn was how pervasive this oversensitivity has become as a weapon for different generations to use against one another. Earlier, Maggie remarks on the dismissiveness with which her older peers regard her, the way she questions conduct and behaviour. Their response, while accusing her of oversensitivity, is to, themselves, appear oversensitive. Perhaps what 'After the Hunt' reveals is the lack of listening and compassion that has created the perfect breeding ground for acts of misogyny, that while we stand there screaming in each other's faces, trying to assert our position, we fail to hear the vulnerability within the one we're screaming at. 'After the Hunt' is an appropriate title, not just for its discussion of the aftermath of a sexual assault accusation, but for the way every single character in the film wields a weapon, a spear sharpened to startling precision, ready to thrust it into any potential enemy at any point, regardless of whether they are lover, friend or colleague.

In the end, I loved 'After the Hunt'. True, my love for Luca Guadagnino's specific style makes me predisposed to locking into his wavelength, but it's been a while since I was forced to interrogate my moral compass so throughly and so constructively. It captures our contemporary confusions and contradictions in order to question them, not for their individual validity but how they collide and collude with one another. I like to think I would act with more clarity in Alma's case, not let my affections cloud my judgement and send a potential victim into an even more damaging spiral. But maybe I would make the same mistakes. Maybe I would also have that momentary pause, question everything a step too far, let doubt creep in. Could Hank have done it? Absolutely. Could Maggie be lying? Possibly. So what do you do? Who do you believe? What does your moral compass tell you? Is it better to be valid than it is to be right? Are they not the same thing? Shouldn't they be the same thing?

In the end though, after the hunt is over, it's the victims of abuse that are left on the battlefield to suffer, especially when a system is built to keep them quiet, especially women, especially women of colour, especially women perceived to be, in any way, a "nuisance".

"Not everything is supposed to make you comfortable, Maggie," says Alma. "Not everything is supposed to be a lukewarm bath for you to sink into until you fall asleep and drown."

"And there are no rewards in death," Maggie replies, "for suffering as much as fucking possible in life."