Promising Young Woman (2020)

'Can you guess what every woman's worst nightmare is?' That question has gone unanswered for centuries - concerning potentially the most taboo subject in the world - has been addressed in a stunningly good directorial debut by Emerald Fennell, starring Carrey Mulligan as Cassie, an ex-med student who, after the suicide of her best friend, goes to a club every night, feigns drunkenness, and allows herself to be picked up by a self-proclaimed 'nice guy', only to reveal her sobriety before he can act out his not-so-nice fantasies. Unlike the sexual predators Cassie targets, however, Fennell's direction refuses to shy away from the cold, hard truths of consent and rape.

What cannot be stressed enough is that this is Mulligan's movie; Cassie is a force to be reckoned with, concealing a burning rage beneath her often-deliberately sexualised and 'feminine' exterior to attract predators (watch out for that fabulous sexy-nurse costume), whose disillusionment with the justice system that failed to convict her friend Nina's rapists has driven her to enact her own special justice. Mulligan is the embodiment of don't-give-a-darn-ness - staring out cat-callers and spitting in the coffee of a guy who asks her out - displaying enviable confidence in nearly every scene and a wonderful unpredictability that always seems verging on insanity. Supporting her are a fantastic ensemble cast, including musical comedian, Bo Burnham, who comes off surprisingly charming. Unfortunately, Laverne Cox (Orange is the New Black) is shoehorned into the role of the 'black best friend' to Cassie, but still brings her own unique twist to the character for what little screen time she has. Meanwhile, Alfred Molina, Alison Brie, and Connie Britton - all of whom play various parties implicated in Nina's rape charge being dropped - show how, even today, how difficult it is for a rape victim to be taken seriously. But the standout has to be Chris Lowell (Veronica Mars, The Help) as Nina's rapist, Al, who, despite being onscreen for a very short time, perfectly encapsulates the 'nice guy' attitude Cassie targets; Al is almost infuriatingly genuine, so that, when he is the victim of Cassie's final vendetta, one can't help but feel an (undeserved) pang of sympathy for him.

Though the film is primarily character-driven, the visuals are far from squandered: Cassie's day job at a sickeningly sweet café - characterised by pastel blues, frothy milkshakes and hair scrunchies - contrasts heavily with her nightly ventures into sleazy bars and clubs, with low lighting, loud music, and an oppressive, hazy atmosphere, highlighting the divide between the sexes even more. Cassie's outfits too are designed with a purpose - her day outfits consist of floral-patterned dresses and fluffy jumpers to disguise her inner turmoil - whilst her nights are spent in spiky heels, clinging shirts, and heavy make-up. Not once does she wear something that feels like her, but consistently dons a disguise, either for her parents, for boyfriend Ryan (Burnham), or for the targets in her search for vengeance. Meanwhile, a killer soundtrack of appropriately 'girly' pop - including a Psycho-esque rendition of Britney Spears's 'Toxic' - plays throughout Cassie's journey.

What is a very difficult subject to discuss - first addressed in a major film in The Accused (1988) - has been handled, not with delicacy as is the norm even now, but with brutality, zest, and unwavering courage. Not one scene feels wasted in its depiction of a broken woman who refuses to be a victim of a system that has failed real women too many times. This is not just a film about women, or just about feminism, or even just about rape; it is a call-to-arms and a scream for change that refuses to be smothered.

Fennell is, without a doubt, a very promising young woman.