The Night of a New Hunter: Promising Young Woman

It would be another in a series of reductive and belittling statements to call Promising Young Woman like Kill Bill, but instead of the protagonist seeking revenge for being murdered (or so the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad thought) while pregnant, she’s seeking revenge for a college “incident” of rape. Not her own, mind you. Which brings us already to one of the most extraordinary things about the movie: the idea that there is a friendship tier out there that would make someone like Cassie Thomas (Carey Mulligan) spend the past seven years of her life tirelessly honoring the memory of her longtime best friend, Nina Fisher, by displaying the full extent of her rage against men and what they’re capable of (again, apparently this tier of friendship is only garnered from knowing someone since childhood, or by being either Thelma or Louise).  

With the setting being Ohio, there is plenty of “small town mentality” to go around. Particularly in the hypocrisy of men believing they’re “gentlemen” with regard to their treatment of women. They’re not. Least of all in the club atmosphere where Cassie thrives in proving that all men are scum who will seize any “opportunity” when it presents itself in the form of a drunk girl. And that’s the entire point Cassie aims to make to her easily lured targets. Although the trailer might suggest it, her goal is not to cause them physical harm, only to surprise them just at the moment they’re going to violate her in her presumed state of semi- or unconsciousness by popping up and speaking to them with the sobriety of a Mormon. The first unwitting victim we see her pull in is Jerry (Adam Brody), talking amongst his friends at the bar, who happen to be having a conversation about some female coworker who is an annoying bitch for speaking out against something she deemed sexist. They also lament that women in the workplace have made it so that men can’t even go to strip clubs and write it off as a team bonding experience anymore (something Peggy Olson would have been on board with). All of this “boys will be boys” talk sets the perfect stage for the trio to glance over at Cassie, presenting herself as a lost lamb to these wolves. 

Jerry won’t be the first man to be shocked by Cassie’s sudden repetition of, “What are you doing?” more soberly than they remember her being. This unexpected maneuver is what catches them in the act of being what they are: pieces of shit. Proves that they’re more aroused by the prospect of a helpless woman “not in her right mind” than one who has agency and the ability to make her own choices. Neil (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) is yet another of those characters who prefers a woman to be barely conscious as he prattles on while doing lines about what a masterpiece David Foster Wallace’s Consider the Lobster is. Writer-director Emerald Fennell (who you’ll also recognize with a cameo in the film as she gives a video tutorial on how to achieve the perfect “blow job lips,” in addition to her recent star turn as Camilla Shand a.k.a. Parker-Bowles on The Crown) is meticulous with such details. For every girl worth her weight in a quick sum-up of male douche baggery knows that citing Foster Wallace is an immediate cue to run the other way. And naturally, Neil, too, is writing a book–one he describes as being about “what it’s like for guys right now” (and, to add to the vom factor, takes place over the course of one night in New York City). As in to say: men genuinely feel their “rights” are being erased amid the “witch hunts” and “accusations” that have been “permitted” to flourish in a post-#MeToo world. To really go for his jugular after Cassie reveals her sobriety to him, as she walks out the door, she notes, “Your novel sounds terrible by the way.” The most effortless burn to give to a white male. 

While we’ve gotten a vivid portrait of Cassie’s “night life,” her “day life” comes later, and is in marked contrast. She works in a coffee shop (where her boss, Gail, is played by Laverne Cox) and lives with her parents, Stanley (Clancy Brown) and Susan (Jennifer Coolidge), who cannot understand or relate to her in any way, with her mother in particular just wanting her to magically transcend into a “normal” girl. The kind who gets married and has kids, maybe has an impressive job, to boot. Cassie was certainly headed in the direction of the latter when she was pursuing neurosurgery at school, but threw it all away to drop out when Nina did in order to take care of her. Stanley and Susan never understood what really happened, like everyone else, assuming that Cassie had gone “crazy,” suffered some sort of “psychotic break.” Of course all the sane ones in this world are deemed insane in order to keep the system of subjugation turning on its axis. Worst of all is that women themselves are just as complicit in protecting men, in allowing the cycle of their bad behavior to be tolerated, and worse still, celebrated. 

That much is true of Madison McPhee (Alison Brie), an old friend Cassie calls upon after she reunites with another former classmate, Ryan Cooper (Bo Burnham), who asks her out when he sees her working at the coffee shop. Wanting to assess how much Madison has really changed since the event that, for Cassie and Nina, changed everything, she determines Madison is just as much of an enabler to men than ever when she notes retrospectively of Nina’s plea for help to her after it happened, “Don’t get blackout drunk and have sex with people you don’t want to.” Cassie is quick to then give her a taste of her own medicine, as she’s been watching Madison pour herself drink after drink all afternoon while Cassie, again, merely pretends to be drinking. 

The whole time, Cassie has been keeping a journal with hash marks demarcating the number of men she’s pulled her con on. That hash mark appears singly onscreen when she first meets Madison, indicating there is a specific list of people to claim vengeance on for what happened to Nina. This is, again, where one can’t help but make the Kill Bill correlation, in addition to slightly comparing Nina Fisher to Hannah Baker in 13 Reasons Why. Next on it is the dean at the university, Elizabeth Walker (Connie Britton), who did not believe Nina’s reports when it happened either, instead protecting Al Monroe’s (Chris Lowell, joining Alison Brie for some unofficial GLOW reunion) precious stature. She even goes so far as to tell Cassie, “What would you have me do? Ruin a young man’s life every time we get an accusation like this?” 

Next on Cassie’s “hit” list (which involves lesson-teaching rather than killing) is the lawyer who got Al off any charges by further tarnishing Nina’s name, Jordan Green (Alfred Molina). As the only compunctious one of the bunch, Cassie knows he can be trusted to help her later on, when the shit really hits the fan. 

While everyone has ooh’d and ahh’d over the use of Paris Hilton’s “Stars Are Blind” in the film, it is Fennell’s inclusion of another, lesser known track that really resonates. It starts with a scene of Cassie’s parents watching The Night of the Hunter, one of many carefully curated pop culture selections for the purposes of underscoring Cassie’s particular trauma and plight. With Robert Mitchum playing the role of a minister posing as a benevolent being, it plays off the fact that both Nina’s rapist and Cassie herself have gotten far in their machinations by posing as “sources of good”–innocents–in order to worm their way into certain people’s lives. Later on, when Cassie is faced with another shocking revelation about the night of Nina’s rape, Fennell’s soundtrack again becomes like another character as Davis Grubb and Walter Schumann’s “Pearl’s Dream” plays in the background. It is an eerie, a capella-esque song that punctuates one of the most bittersweet scenes in The Night of the Hunter. The song also notes that it’s “a hard world for little creatures”–like “fragile” women. Made all the more vulnerable when they “ask for it” by drinking too much. Side note: The Hunting Ground is a similar and fitting name for the 2015 documentary about college girls being raped while under the influence and then not being believed afterward. 

When Madison finally beats the door down, so to speak, to get in contact with Cassie again so as to ask what happened to her that drunken afternoon, she admits to Cassie that there was a video made by Al’s friend, Joe (Max Greenfield), of the “incident.” A video that circulated among the friend group as though it was gossip rather than bearing witness not just to a crime, but to sheer evil. Madison, having been humbled by Cassie’s lesson, remarks, “I don’t know how we could have all watched it and thought it was… funny.”

As Cassie’s final showdown is about to take place–complete with a stripper-fied nurse disguise–Archimia’s string quartet version of Britney Spears’ “Toxic” plays. This sonic decision, too, is rife with poetic meaning. For what pop star has been more exploited by the male record executives (and, now, even her own father) puppeteering her sexualized strings than one, Miss Spears? Approaching the secluded cabin where Al and his college lackeys are having their bachelor party, we have no idea what to prepare for next. And it is Fennell taking the darker road that makes the film even stronger in its message. Men still do not get punished for their actions. And it takes jumping through hoops of fire to even get someone in a position of authority to “consider” doing something about an “accusation.” 

Joe tells Al, “You did nothing wrong,” reiterating the self-delusion men fortify themselves with to believe that women are the ones “overreacting.” The “witches” trying to pass on the stake they burned on long ago. There are those that would call this a “man-hating” film. So be it, but it is a story that depicts honestly the nightmare of being a woman in a world where men’s logic is, “It’s every guy’s worst nightmare to be accused like that.” Accused. It’s never an admission of wrongdoing, and one immediately thinks of the likes of Brett Kavanaugh as a result of this line said by Al as he “defends” himself. Until the end, they’ll keep screaming to the woman who has done nothing other than tell the truth, “This is your fucking fault!” There’s no remorse for what they’ve done, only fear for their “reputation.” Then comes the effortless campaigning to make her seem “unstable.” That’s what Cassie’s own father calls her by the end, when questioned by a detective. Written off as just another “crazy” “feminist” bitch. 

With regard to the film’s title, it’s perfect for the eventual outcome. And applies first to the fate of Nina. “She was such a promising young woman,” you can imagine hearing them all “lament” in their faux “what a shame” manner. As though it was she who derailed herself, not some wolf in sheep’s clothing like Al. Fennell delivers the final emotional blow to our senses with use of “Something Wonderful” from The King and I. For those not familiar with the opening lyrics, they speak perfectly to the motif of the movie and our collective continued tolerance of “boys being boys”: “This is a man who thinks with his heart/His heart is not always wise/This is a man who stumbles and falls/But this is a man who tries/This is a man you’ll forgive and forgive/And help protect, as long as you live/He will not always say/What you would have him say/But now and then he’ll do something wonderful.” Evidently ten percent of “wonderful” makes up for the ninety percent of diabolical. 

Genna Rivieccio http://culledculture.com

Genna Rivieccio writes for myriad blogs, mainly this one, The Burning Bush, Missing A Dick, The Airship and Meditations on Misery.

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