by Alice-Ginevra Micheli, Contributing Writer
Before this review starts, it’s important for us to put front and center that It Ends with Us focuses on — both in its periphery, and as its main plot point — domestic violence. If this is something you or anyone you know is not comfortable with, then I strongly recommend that you either wait until you can see the movie in a safe space, or not watch it at all.
However, it’s possible that those reading this review already knew this about the movie, as it’s based on the extremely popular novel of the same name by famous romance author, Colleen Hoover. Often touted as a book that has helped people get back into reading, It Ends with Us has been both loved and hated by many people. So its adaptation into movie form is something that was both long awaited and controversial — a great PR mix for any studio, really.
Getting into it, It Ends With Us follows Lily (Blake Lively) as she opens a flower shop to make her mark on the world. Along the way, she meets handsome neurosurgeon, Ryle (Justin Baldoni), and what is an initial spark of connection begins to take a turn into something that reminds her of the traumatic childhood she’s tried to leave behind.
Let’s begin by talking about the elephant-sized trigger warning in the room. As I mentioned, this film focuses on domestic violence, and how it can come from the most unlikely of places. Most importantly, it explores how this is not an issue that comes in a neat black-and-white box — quite the opposite in fact. While many forms of storytelling have previously chosen to focus on more violent, overt portrayals, this movie chooses instead to take the difficult and controversial road of depicting a loving, romantic relationship that slowly descends into a terrifying situation.
Baldoni, taking the helm of director as well as actor, begins by showing the audience a typical romance, filled with the cringy lines we hear all the time, and the chemistry that is always present whenever two hot people enter a room and ogle each other. Then something shifts; something small but noticeable, which then continues until it’s undeniable that this is not a love story, but a horror story. It’s a tricky line, and one that this movie stumbles through a couple of times in its portrayal. However, it manages to keep on balance enough so that the ultimate overall message is one of the most powerful ones yet set to screen.
The themes of denial, gaslighting, inner strength, and yes, romance, cause the audience to question their own sensibilities. Their own ability to recognize a red flag, even though it’s being delivered in a handsome, most of the time kind, package.
That’s the big thing about this movie: It deliberately chooses not to paint Baldwin’s Ryle as a cut-and-dry abuser. However, he is still not someone Lily should stay with, and this is a reality that many victims of domestic abuse have to deal with. It’s rarely as simple as cutting someone off at the first sign of violence. Very often, there is love, there is friendship, and there are emotions getting in the way of what from the outside looks like a difficult decision.
While all these elements are present and drawn from the original book, they are still well explored throughout the film in a subtle, yet effective way. Where there was a lot of telling in the book due to its written format, and ability to use things like diary entries, and inner monologue to get emotions across, Baldoni uses visuals to enhance both the understanding of its storytelling, and its necessary misdirection. This is especially prevalent when exploring the theme of generational trauma that is also present and vital to the film as a whole. How tragic events from one’s childhood can define a person later in their life, even if they are actively fighting against their fate — and if this is a pattern that’s possible to break.
The actors all do a good job, with Lively and Baldoni being the standouts, both portraying characters who contain multitudes. One is struggling to find her strength within expectations, while the other is struggling with his expectations and inherent violence. There was clearly a lot of care from both actors when approaching their respective characters, which culminates in a powerful and important story for the modern generation.
It Ends with Us presents itself as a romance. However, this is only to showcase a reality of abuse that is often sidelined due to the difficulty of its telling. How can you depict a story where the abuser is disarming, and by all other accounts an attractive package? On the flip side, it illustrates why someone like Lily might choose to retell themselves their own story in order to justify what others might consider to be cowardly and denial. The movie is essentially saying, it is not that simple. It is never that simple, and that in and of itself is something worth trying to understand if you can.
Rating: Liked It
It Ends with Us is currently playing in theaters
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