It Ends with Us is a frustratingly inert take on abusive relationships

It Ends with Us is a frustratingly inert take on abusive relationships

As a coffee connoisseur and film enthusiast who’s had his fair share of heart-wrenching melodramas, let me tell you about my take on “It Ends with Us.” Now, I’ve seen my share of love stories set against picturesque backdrops, but this one feels more like a trip to the local mall than a romantic escape. The cinematography and editing lack the emotional intensity needed to bring these characters’ passion to life.


As a gamer, I found myself immersed in the movie adaptation of Colleen Hoover’s 2016 novel, “It Ends with Us,” directed by Justin Baldoni. From the get-go, the interaction between Lily Bloom (played by Blake Lively) and Ryle Kincaid (portrayed by Baldoni himself) seemed a bit rocky. They were on the rooftop of his apartment, and he was intrigued by this stunning stranger. Lily, who has a thing for flowers, gradually shared her first name, then her last name, and finally revealed that her middle name is “Blossom.” Ryle and Lily couldn’t help but make jokes about how her parents must have had a chuckle naming her that, and they even added some playful comments about the humor in this botanist’s unique moniker.

The self-referential banter (apparently derived from Christy Hall’s script, influenced by Hoover’s work) made me chuckle disbelievingly. In our world, the pair who paved the way for legal interracial marriage in America bore the surname Loving. Sometimes, characters just have overt names! Instead of acknowledging this truth, the initial saccharine dialogue in “It Ends with Us” invites viewers to overlook an implausible protagonist’s name. This hesitance, regrettably, foreshadows a less-than-impressive film.

On the same day Lily crossed paths with Ryle, she also bid farewell to her father at his funeral. That day was filled with emotional turmoil due to Lily’s strained bond with her dad. Yet, she chooses to channel her energy towards realizing her dream of opening a flower shop in Boston. With the help of her best friend Allysa (Jenny Slate), they work on restoring an old building. Interestingly enough, Ryle is Allysa’s brother! Lily and Ryle keep encountering each other unexpectedly, which soon grows into a heartfelt romance.

In the current era filled with contemporary dating and romance, Hall’s script transports viewers back to when Lily, portrayed by Isabela Ferrer, was a High School student. During this time, she had a romantic involvement with homeless teenager Atlas (Alex Neustaedter). Later in life, Atlas reenters Lily’s world, played by Brandon Sklenar, now the proprietor of a well-respected local restaurant. However, Lily’s past is complicated when Ryle, her current lover, shows signs of physical abuse. Despite vowing never to follow in her mother’s footsteps who endured years of abuse from a violent partner, Lily finds herself stuck in this harmful relationship, seeking a way out and uncertain about the next step.

Although promotional materials for Lively’s film “It Ends with Us” may present a lighter tone due to Ryan Reynolds’ involvement, the subject matter of the movie is quite serious, dealing with themes such as abusive relationships, toxic masculinity, and intergenerational cruelty. Many excellent films have tackled these heavy topics with sensitivity, including “Women Talking,” “The Work,” and “Minding the Gap.” Unfortunately, the treatment of these somber themes in “It Ends with Us” feels somewhat lacking in depth or emotional resonance.

Hall and Baldoni approach the diverse elements within “It Ends with Us” (romance, domestic violence, intense drama) in a detached manner. The production seems to lack a consistent creative touch, resulting in an overall experience that falls short of expectations. For example, the early idyllic scenes between Lily and Ryle fail to capture much romantic chemistry. One reason for this could be that their first rooftop encounter is accompanied by a song sung by someone who sounds remarkably like a coffee shop version of Adam Levine.

Another issue is that the cinematography and editing don’t effectively build tension or express the growing emotional connection between these characters. Instead, their intimate scenes take place against ordinary backdrops such as a common outdoor mall or a cold, modern loft. In contrast, older melodramas like “All That Heaven Allows” made extensive use of grandiose production design and cinematography to underscore an intensely emotional mood. However, in “It Ends with Us,” Baldoni and cinematographer Barry Peterson choose a more grounded visual style that reflects realism.

In my opinion, the dramatic aspects in “It Ends with Us” seem to have characters who carry an overly tragic past, as if they’ve been scripted that way. However, this realistic portrayal seems to limit the exploration of these struggles in a compelling manner. The revelations feel less impactful, and the emotional intensity behind scenes filled with pathos is lacking. It’s almost like characters are casually discussing serious issues such as homelessness, suicide, or child murder, much like a waiter suggesting various dipping sauces. Despite the frequent mentions of these heavy topics, the author’s writing style doesn’t delve too deeply into the complexities of these issues. Instead, they seem more like buzzwords than deep-seated psychological burdens that people carry for years.

Compare this film to “The People’s Joker,” which skillfully blended a profound examination of dealing with transphobic trauma with numerous dark humor, unusual elements, and an exceptional portrayal of The Penguin. Writer/director Vera Drew’s audacious decision to veer from traditional visual and narrative styles actually deepened the movie’s investigation into psychological distress rather than detracting from it. In contrast, “It Ends with Us” feels subdued as it tackles its heavy themes without much creativity or insight. Merely mentioning suicide doesn’t automatically give a film depth or meaning.

It Ends with Us is a frustratingly inert take on abusive relationships

In simpler terms, the actors Baldoni and Sklenar aren’t particularly outstanding due to the weak script, but Sklenar does deliver a funny line with “get out of my restaurant!” exceptionally well. They are visually appealing, but they don’t usually create strong screen impacts. Lively, on the other hand, is more engaging as an actor. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much varied material to work with. Kudos to the casting team for choosing Ferrer to play young Lily. Ferrer does a fantastic job of resembling Blake Lively as a young actress, and she has mastered the smallest vocal nuances of this veteran from “A Simple Favor”!

In my downtime, as I was deeply immersed in the gripping narrative of “It Ends with Us”, I found myself reflecting on the movie’s visual focus. The scenes that seem to take center stage in this film are undeniably those portraying women’s suffering. The story leaves little room for guesswork, a characteristic often seen in mainstream studio productions. Scenes of Lily’s bruised face, her mother being slapped on the couch, and Lily’s terrified expressions as Ryle pins her to a couch are recurring images that flash across the screen.

These patterns prompted me to think back on how other exceptional films portray the struggles faced by women. For example, the movie The Assistant stars Julia Garner as a woman working under a man similar to Harvey Weinstein. Although we don’t see any explicit instances of sexual abuse, we do observe the consequences of his actions and how the female lead navigates this challenging work setting.

In a compelling documentary titled “Kokomo City“, real-life sex workers candidly discuss various aspects of their profession, including harrowing experiences that pose life threats. Director D. Smith primarily focuses on these women recounting such incidents. Beyond discussing their hardships, the documentary also allows them to share their stories about much more than just their abuse. Similarly, in Martin Scorsese’s “Who’s That Knocking at My Door“, a pivotal scene showcases J.R., played by Harvey Keitel, berating his lover, The Girl (Zina Bethune), for being raped. During this confrontation, Scorsese’s camera strategically frames the dialogue so that it captures only The Girl, with J.R.’s head out of the frame. This powerful shot places us in The Girl’s perspective and conveys the pain she endured following the traumatic event. In this scene, the headless J.R. symbolizes all those blaming her for the tragedy instead of the actual male perpetrator. These examples illustrate how both documentaries delve deep into the experiences of women often silenced or misrepresented in media.

Movies don’t become superior just because they avoid depicting the suffering of women. On the contrary, a significant portion of cinema has historically focused on women in distress at the hands of men. Consider many B-action films that use graphic violence against women to stir up emotions for male characters or add explicit content. When handling such subject matter, it’s crucial to approach it thoughtfully. Unfortunately, the film “It Ends with Us” doesn’t meet this standard. It isn’t a terribly bad movie, but Baldoni and his team’s portrayal of an abusive relationship offers nothing original. Instead, it follows the usual formula, lacking creativity and depth.

In the movie “It Ends with Us“, Ethel Caine’s voice on the soundtrack is a notable highlight, but what truly captures attention is Eric Daman’s exceptional costume design. Allysa’s wardrobe, in particular, stands out, with striking pieces like her stunning red maternity dress and shimmering party attire making her always fashionable. Lily also sports a unique wardrobe, such as an overall jumpsuit, that fits her character perfectly. These costumes are among the film’s few distinct elements that truly feel original. Regrettably, the rest of the movie shares the same level of frustration and disappointment as the repeated jokes about Lily Bloom’s name.

Read More

2024-08-07 20:15