Alice, Darling (2022)

Alice, Darling is special because it turns the familiar shape of a thriller inward, making the scariest moments the quiet ones—those tiny flinches, pauses, and second-guesses that reveal how control can seep into a life without leaving a bruise. Anna Kendrick delivers a career-best performance, all nerves and buried intelligence, while Mary Nighy directs with a steady, compassionate eye that lets the tension build without sensationalizing what Alice is going through. What really lifts the film is the warmth and grit of female friendship: the story breathes in the lakeside calm even as dread hums underneath, and you feel how support can be both messy and lifesaving. It’s not an easy watch if emotional abuse hits close to home, but if you want a smart, humane drama-thriller that understands psychology as well as it understands suspense, this one stays with you.

Alice, Darling is aiming for a sober, character-first look at emotional abuse and the slow, messy process of reclaiming yourself, and it’s at its best when it stays intimate and lets the tension simmer. The downside is that the story can feel a bit thin and overly “message-forward,” like it’s hitting key points of a topic rather than digging into the full complexity of the relationship, and the direction doesn’t always add a distinctive edge. If you’re expecting a twisty thriller or a nuanced romantic drama, this may feel restrained and a little schematic, with some scenes playing more like an intervention lesson than lived-in life. Still, Anna Kendrick brings real vulnerability, and the friendship dynamic has enough warmth to make the quieter moments land even when the script feels undercooked.