Elisa Giudici reporting from Venice
Ayo Edebiri makes an accusation in "AFTER THE HUNT"
Luca Guadagnino has never shied away from controversy, and After the Hunt confirms he’s still unafraid to provoke. A story of sexual assault on a university campus becomes the lens through which he examines the messy, ongoing intergenerational debate around #MeToo, forcing audiences to wrestle with discomfort rather than dodge it.
The film begins with Maggie Price (Ayo Edebiri), a wealthy Black queer student, under the mentorship of Alma (Julia Roberts), a philosophy professor fighting for tenure with the support of her husband Frederick (Michael Stuhlbarg). Across campus is Hank (Andrew Garfield), an assistant professor from a modest background, also seeking to cement his place in academia. When Maggie accuses Hank of harassment, the film pivots on questions of belief, loyalty, and moral authority—questions shaped by race, class, gender, and generational expectation...
Andrew Garfield and Julia Roberts are colleagues in "AFTER THE HUNT"
Guadagnino’s lens captures these tensions with precision. Alma is torn: should she side with Maggie, emblematic of a generation demanding unwavering solidarity, or with Hank, a man acknowledging a lapse in judgment yet claiming his own lack of privilege? Each character defines guilt, justice, and accountability differently, creating a constantly shifting moral triangle that drives the narrative. The result is a tense, often frustrating exploration of power, complicity, and the unresolved contradictions of #MeToo.
The screenplay by Nora Garrett, who also appeared briefly in Guadagnino’s Challengers, is delicate and ambitious, though it falters under the weight of its subject. It struggles to probe the nuances of power and gender with the incisiveness of, say, Todd Field’s Tár, leaving the final act to Stuhlbarg to inject emotional depth and credibility. The resolution, while compelling, exposes the script’s inability to fully confront its controversial character. Yet Guadagnino’s direction keeps the film afloat, his artistry compensating for the structural gaps and pretentious stretches of dialogue early on.
Style, as always, is inescapable. The film brims with music, books, film references—including a sly Almodóvar cameo—and, naturally, Guadagnino’s love of food. Stuhlbarg functions as an on-screen proxy, his commentary and judgments echoing the director’s own voice. There are traces of Bertolucci in the visual and emotional orchestration, yet the opening titles nod provocatively to Woody Allen, a daring touch in a film deeply engaged with #MeToo’s legacy.
Julia Roberts headlines AFTER THE HUNT
The performances are uneven but noteworthy. Garfield brings surprising warmth and subtlety to a thankless role, while Roberts, as capable as ever, leaves one imagining Cate Blanchett’s ghost in the heated academic sparring. Guadagnino, meanwhile, refuses to hide; every close-up, sudden camera move, or reveal is deliberate, almost didactic, drawing attention to his authorship. Thankfully he never quite overshadows the story.
After the Hunt is far from perfect and may be Guadagnino’s weakest film since his international breakthrough, I Am Love. Its shortcomings are closely tied to the script: Garrett hesitates where she should strike, failing to transform the story’s urgency into bold, resonant commentary. Yet in Guadagnino’s hands, even a flawed narrative remains compelling. He shares some responsibility for the film’s unevenness—it’s hard to discern what drew him to this project, especially since his passions usually shine through clearly, often becoming the very reason a movie is worth watching. His latest project is messy, provocative, and at times frustrating, but it stands as proof of Guadagnino’s rare talent: the ability to navigate risk, maintain control, and command attention, even when the story threatens to slip through his fingers.