Film Review – Woman of the Hour
Woman of the Hour
Anna Kendrick’s directorial debut, Woman of the Hour (2023) is a tense and insightful thriller in which a struggling actor crosses paths with a serial killer on the television show The Dating Game in the 1970s. But Kendrick – along with screenwriter Ian McDonald – doesn’t just focus on this brief encounter. The scope of the narrative is expanded to examine deeply troubling aspects of society. So often, misogyny places women in dangerous situations where they exist but are never heard. They are judged and manipulated to look and act a certain way. But whenever they voice their concerns are either brushed off or ignored. “Do you feel seen?” a woman is asked. They respond, “I feel looked at.” That exchange lies at the heart of the film.
It’s interesting that Kendrick would choose this material for her first foray into directing. Based on her past work, I’ve always associated her with comedies or musicals. That is my mistake. Kendrick proves that she is adept in the thriller and true crime genre, not only crafting scenes of high suspense, but also adapting a story set during a specific time frame. With cinematographer Andy Canny and editor Zach Kuperstein, Kendrick weaves of tale of two opposing perspectives. She follows an actor named Sheryl (played by Kendrick) and serial killer Rodney Alcala (Daniel Zovatto) leading up to and soon after their Dating Game appearance. The visuals are sleek and polished, with a sense of mounting dread bubbling underneath.
Given the story, time, and style in which the film is presented, there’s no doubt comparisons will be made to David Fincher’s Zodiac (2007), which has almost become the standard to which all movies about murderers are set against. But Kendrick goes for something completely different with her take. Instead of tracing the investigation to capture Alcala, Kendrick chooses to examine the societal elements that allowed him to go on his murdering spree. She places a microscope on a population that did not heed the warning signs from those that came forward to report him, resulting in the deaths of untold women and children. There are frequent time shifts that follow Alcala, following his first crimes on the east coast and his eventual journey to California. Kendrick directs with an emphasis on the anticipation of an attack rather than the attack itself. The initial charm Rodney uses to gain the trust of his victims is followed by the inevitable gear shift when they realize they’ve been caught in a trap. But Kendrick doesn’t linger on the violence, often cutting away a split second early.
Alcala’s story runs parallel to Sheryl. We meet her struggling to make ends meet, going on audition after audition with no luck, and having to grit her teeth against all the sexist remarks thrown her way. During an early audition scene, two interviewers debate Sheryl’s physique openly and in front of her face. Things escalate when, feeling desperate, she chooses to be on The Dating Game and is immediately put under further scrutiny from the host (Tony Hale). Kendrick’s performance has the same kind of spirited energy we’ve seen from her before, but it’s matched with a level of frustration in the situation she finds herself in. That’s why – when she takes matters into her own hands while taping the show – her willingness to not play along feels right even though the moment is a little over-dramatized. But it’s done for a purpose. As the show’s makeup artist (Denalda Williams) points out: all the questions (silly as they may be) are meant for the women to find out which of the men will hurt them. Sheryl just chose to be most blunt about it.
Kendrick makes a lot of good artistic choices here, but the biggest accomplishment is how she underscores the human gaze. The camera is always focused on faces, the feelings they express without the use of words. The motif of “looking” runs all throughout. Alcala operates under the guise of a photographer, snapping pictures of his victims to give a false sense of security. Daniel Zovatto gives a convincing performance as the killer, utilizing his face to give off all sort of conflicting personalities. He can be the smiling gentleman one moment, and then immediately become a demon with the slight change of expression. Glances, looks, and stares all contribute to the tone. In one scene, Sheryl and Alcala have a conversation at a restaurant. He turns to a waitress to order more drinks. Sheryl gives the waitress a quick headshake, which tells them all they need to know about what is happening.
As strong as Woman of the Hour is, it does have some speedbumps. Most notably in the supporting characters. Laura (Nicolette Robinson) is an audience member who recognizes Alcala and tries to warn the authorities. While I don’t know if there actually was a “Laura” in the audience on that fateful day, her character – as depicted on screen – felt less like a person and more like narrative shorthand. It was as though she was included as a way for the film to really hammer down its themes. This is also seen in the young runaway, Amy (Autumn Best). Amy was one of Alcala’s victims who managed to escape his wrath with some quick thinking. Although Amy is instrumental in recounting Alcala’s steps and where he would eventually end up, we learn little to nothing about her. The character was portrayed as a means to an end, rather than a fully dynamic person.
But when the movie works, it really works. Kendrick is very good at building suspense. She allows awkward silences to put us on edge, much in the same way (I assume) women feel when they must always be aware of their surroundings. A sequence taking place in a parking lot is conceived with rapid tension. What started as casual conversation quickly devolved into something completely different. Kendrick has the patience and maturity as a filmmaker to let the scene play out to really make us experience the terror. But she is also good and crafting scenes with subtlety, such as when the various men in Sheryl’s life push her hair back behind her ears. What might seem like a generic, almost innocuous gesture is so heavy with meaning that it plays out like a violation.
Woman of the Hour is an impressive debut for Anna Kendrick. She displays a keen visual eye and steady control of atmosphere. She has created a picture that not only works as a visceral experience, but one that also has something smart to say. While I’m not sure the frequent time jumps worked as well as planned, or that the side characters had enough opportunity for us to get to know them, the overall result is still highly effective filmmaking. If this is where Kendrick’s directorial career starts off, I can only imagine the heights she will go.