Can a film really be style over substance? That seems to be the general consensus for brand new thriller Don’t Worry Darling but I feel after going away and really thinking about the film that isn’t the way to sum it up.
Directed by Olivia Wilde (Booksmart) Don’t Worry Darling finds Alice (Florence Pugh – Black Widow) living the life that many would dream of. Her husband, Jack (Harry Styles – Dunkirk) is employed by rich businessman Frank (Chris Pine – Wonder Woman) and as a result they get to live in a gated community where every whim seems to be met with the women not lifting a finger.
Amid a flurry of shopping trips and parties though Alice begins to question what exactly is going on when she watches her neighbour, Margaret’s (KiKi Layne – The Old Guard) become thrown into question when she begins to ask questions about the way they live. To Alice the questions are more than worthy to be asked but the response is way out of the ordinary.
Soon though Alice finds herself asking the same questions when she witnesses a mysterious plane crash that nobody else seems to notice. Her worries about her environment are heightened even more when she goes to find the plane only to discover something that is a lot more sinsister.
When it comes to the suspense element of Don’t Worry Darling there is nothing lacking. Likewise when it comes to the general plot and even the look of the film. No the biggest issue with Don’t Worry Darling occurs when the film should be reaching its greatest heights. Once the audience begins to demand answers, just the same way that Alice is, it feels like the screenwriter Katie Siberman (Booksmart) loses control the film. Either she never had the answers of what was really going on to Alice or her friends or she didn’t how to present it to the audience. Either way the finale of this film will leave the audience a little underwhelmed and exposes the film for borrowing from films such as The Matrix, Stepford Wives and Disturbing Behaviour just to name a few.
It is a shame that the finale leaves the audience with a sour taste in their mouth because there are a lot of other things that work brilliantly for this film. Yes it looks amazing, the gated community, the sun-drenched desert and the beautiful clothes all come up a treat on the screen but this film is a film that really comes to life because of its amazing acting performances.
If there was anyone else left out there questioning the acting prowess of Florence Pugh then this is the film that should completely silence them. Pugh isn’t just amazing in this film, she is faultless. No matter what the screenplay or her director calls of her in this film she delivers. From full-on sex scenes to moments of suspense and terror for her character Pugh just does not miss a beat. The one thing many will walk away from this film thinking is that Pugh is going to win an Oscar one day – it is not a question of if it is just a question of when.
She is also well supported by her male co-stars. Pine seems to relish getting to play a sauve character that the audience find themselves wondering whether is good or bad. Matching that effort is Harry Stlyes as well. While there are some out there that have questioned his decision to turn to acting here he seems to take on many of the mannerisms and skill of a young Leonardo Di Caprio and that really comes to the fore during an emotionally fuelled scene with Pugh in the front seat of a car.
As I have thought more about Don’t Worry Darling I have come to one solution. Had the screenwriter been able to come with an ending that not only answered all the audience’s questions but also come to a good resolve then this could easily have been one of the films of the year. Already fuelled by the sleek look, a soundtrack that will have you searching Spotify as soon as you leave the cinema and some stunning acting performances this was a film that had everything working for it. My last bit of advice would be for cinema goers to go into Don’t Worry Darling and enjoy the experience but just be prepared for a finale that won’t totally satisfy.
