Itâs not so often that the font of a movieâs opening credits is, itself, a provocation.
But in Luca Guadagnino âs muddled but darkly absorbing âAfter the Hunt,â the white Windsor Light Condensed lettering against a black background, with cast in alphabetical order and soft jazz playing, is immediately recognizable as the style of a Woody Allen movie opening.
In the juggling act to follow in âAfter the Hunt,â where Guadagnino will playfully twirl a twisting narrative of alleged sexual assault, cancel culture, privilege in academia and Gen Z victimization, the credits are not so much an opening salvo than they are an introductory wink.
Like many an Allen film, âAfter the Huntâ is set among a well-educated, self-involved class. It takes place around Yale University. But unlike Allenâs anxious, existential, chattering characters, Guadagninoâs cocktail party collection of professors and students is a more scheming and unpleasant lot.
That includes a philosophy professor, Alma Imhoff (Julia Roberts), on the precipice of tenure, her friend and department colleague, Hank Gibson (Andrew Garfield), and Imhoffâs star pupil, a Ph.D. student named Maggie Resnick (Ayo Edebiri), who after a party at Almaâs house accuses Hank of sexual assault.
Guadagninoâs film, shot by Malik Hassan Sayeed, is somberly and flatly lit and rife with reflections. Under these drab surfaces, the central characters of âAfter the Huntâ â an ensemble of singularly charming actors who here have drained away much of their natural charisma â go at each other on everything from Foucault to feminism in a psychological battle set across a #MeToo minefield.
That, at least, is the promise of âAfter the Hunt.â But Guadagninoâs dour and languid film, scripted by Nora Garrett, only fitfully coheres as the conversation piece it aspires to be. Its plot turns can be rash or implausible, and the movie increasingly feels like ideas and set pieces strung tenuously together.
Yet I also enjoyed the prickliness of âAfter the Hunt.â Though thereâs a strong anti-woke vein to it, Guadagninoâs film is more about how seemingly quite different generations have much more in common than they might appear. The cultural debates depicted in the movie are often so colored by moralistic superiority, but thatâs not the case here. Everyone is kind of rotten in âAfter the Hunt.â
Thatâs especially unusual for Roberts, whose Alma is far more complicated a character than she normally tackles. Alma is esteemed, fiercely intelligent, ambitious and hard to read. Her husband, a psychiatrist named Frederik (a fabulous Michael Stuhlbarg as combustible cocktail of cuckold and cook) worships her, but her affection is less evident.
But shorn of her natural ebullience, Roberts’ restraint of the role comes off more like weariness. That adds to some of the off-kilter tenor of âAfter the Hunt,â but itâs hard not to imagine someone like Cate Blanchett in the part.
âWhen did offending someone become a cardinal sin?â Hank asks at the party that opens the movie.
A sign of what Guadagnino might be up to comes not long after, after Maggie has alleged the assault. Alma goes to meet a distraught Hank at a local restaurant. While they hash out whatâs true and whatâs fiction in Maggieâs account, itâs hard not to notice the mirrors that surround Hank.
The real mirror of âAfter the Huntâ is Alma and Maggie. Edebiri is here a kind of stand-in for Gen Z, and her case expands to include a wider range of issues of inclusivity and othering. As things spiral and Maggieâs case leads to increasing intensity on campus and in Almaâs personal life, Alma shifts from Maggieâs mentor to something more like a foe. But Almaâs own past begins to play a role in the fallout, adding a new frame to âAfter the Huntâ that casts Alma and Maggieâs plights in a different light.
Is this a good time? Not especially, though Garfield is great in a rage. Glib insertions donât help. In one scene, when Alma meets a fellow faculty member (ChloĂ« Sevigny) in a bar, a Smiths song plays and she seems surprised a Morrissey tune isnât outlawed.
I’m not sure âAfter the Huntâ has too much more to say than that shrug-of-the-shoulders scene. But âAfter the Huntâ deserves credit not so much more wading into these hot-button topics, but for trying to find its own way through them. It’s not a #MeToo procedural but more like a tragedy. When âoptics over substanceâ governs all, as one character laments, no one lives happily ever after.
âAfter the Hunt,â an Amazon MGM release, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for language and some sexual content. Running time: 139 minutes. Two and a half stars out of four.