PLOT: A Yale University professor (Julia Roberts) finds her loyalties divided when her best friend and colleague (Andrew Garfield) is accused of sexually assaulting a student (Ayo Edebiri).
REVIEW: One has to give director Luca Guadagnino a lot of credit. He’s carved out a unique niche in American cinema, crafting a string of elevated dramas that remain entirely his own. He’s one of the few directors working at that level who never seems to compromise his vision. Not every film lands (I found Queer pretty tedious), but his prolific output means that if one doesn’t connect, the next probably will. After the Hunt will no doubt be his most polarizing film yet. While I’m not convinced it fully achieves what he’s reaching for, you have to admire his willingness to wade into territory few filmmakers would dare explore.
Indeed, After the Hunt is a film that simply couldn’t have been made even a few years ago. It centers on the alleged sexual assault of a young, gay, female student of color—and asks the audience to entertain at least some doubt about whether the assault actually occurred. In a film from a few years back, Ayo Edebiri’s Maggie would have been our clear heroine. Here, she’s believably flawed, forcing the audience to decide for themselves who to believe.
The film’s true protagonist, however, is Julia Roberts as Alma, a philosophy professor on the verge of tenure who seems to have it all: a wealthy, adoring husband (Michael Stuhlbarg), a glittering academic reputation, and an air of intellectual royalty. She’s the queen of her Yale domain, admired by students and colleagues alike. She also has the unwavering devotion of three people—her husband, Garfield’s flirtatious young professor Hank, and Maggie, the student who idolizes her.
When Alma’s loyalties are torn between Hank and Maggie, her carefully curated life begins to crumble. Roberts delivers one of her most unsympathetic performances to date—an icy, brittle portrayal of a woman who reacts to Maggie’s accusation not with empathy but irritation, as if the scandal is little more than an inconvenience to her comfort. She’s easy prey for Hank’s seductive charm and takes her husband’s loyalty completely for granted. Guadagnino refuses to soften her edges, and Roberts embraces that fully. Alma isn’t a nice person—but the film suggests she doesn’t have to be.
Edebiri’s Maggie, meanwhile, is bound to divide audiences. Some viewers have criticized her performance because they didn’t “like” the character—but that’s precisely the point. Maggie isn’t designed to be wholly sympathetic. She’s the privileged daughter of billionaires, with a non-binary partner she treats more like a social accessory than a companion. She may also be a plagiarist. Yet she may also be a victim of sexual assault. The question Guadagnino poses is uncomfortable but vital: does being a flawed person make her less deserving of our sympathy?
These moral ambiguities give After the Hunt a distinctly European sensibility. But while it’s intellectually stimulating, it stops short of greatness—largely due to Guadagnino’s indulgent stylistic flourishes. His ongoing collaboration with Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross has yielded some brilliant scores, but here their work feels distracting and overwrought, as if a Woody Allen movie were scored to sound like Eyes Wide Shut.
Stuhlbarg’s character, too, feels underdeveloped. His patient husband is portrayed almost as a doormat, though Guadagnino at least grants him a few moments of genuine frustration. Still, it’s never entirely clear why he tolerates Alma’s coldness, which borders on cruelty.
The film’s sharpest moments come in its social observations—particularly an early faculty party where the Gen-X professors are all handsy and flirtatious while their younger peers shrink from the lack of boundaries. (The use of Bowie’s “Underground” from the Labyrinth soundtrack playing in the background is a perfect, weirdly specific touch.)
In the end, After the Hunt is messy, indulgent, and occasionally frustrating—but never dull. It’s a film that demands introspection from its audience and rewards those willing to sit in its discomfort. Guadagnino once again proves he’s not afraid to provoke or polarize—and that, in today’s cinematic landscape, is reason enough to watch.
