Director: Justin Baldoni
Writers: Christy Hall, Colleen Hoover
Stars: Blake Lively, Justin Baldoni, Jenny Slate
Synopsis: Adapted from the Colleen Hoover novel, Lily overcomes a traumatic childhood to embark on a new life. A chance meeting with a neurosurgeon sparks a connection but Lily begins to see sides of him that remind her of her parents’ relationship.
This review of It Ends with Us will contain spoilers.
There will be a lot of talk about the adaptation of It Ends with Us—negative from critics and positive from fans of the source material. That was bound to happen. For one, the romance novel by Colleen Hoover is, incredibly, the second-highest-grossing book of all time, behind, you guessed it, the Bible.
It Ends with Us is beloved, so there is a built-in audience. However, many critics will likely take issue with romanticizing a story that deals with the serious theme of domestic abuse. This mainstream spin on such a weighty subject may lead some to argue that the film doesn’t take the issue seriously, perhaps even trivializing it to the point of being almost flippant.
However, after watching the film, the truth lies somewhere in between.
Based on the best-selling novel of the same name, the story follows Lily Bloom (Blake Lively), a woman who abruptly leaves her father’s (Kevin McKidd) funeral in the middle of her eulogy, much to the disappointment of her mother (Up in the Air’s Amy Morton). Lily travels back to Boston, where she sneaks onto the roof of an upscale high-rise, deep in thought, where she meets a man stamped with an eternal five-o’clock shadow, Ryle (Five Feet Apart’s Justin Baldoni).
Ryle is so angry that when he gets to the roof, he kicks over a chair, something Lily immediately picks up on.
Yet, in a twist familiar to most cinematic popcorn romances, she sees beyond his temper and finds a man who has a sweetness underneath that dangerous exterior despite having a bad day. Ryle is a neurosurgeon (yes, it’s one of those movies, though the movie does have some fun with these cliches) who has just lost a child on the operating table. Beneath all that charm, his chiseled jawline, and a body virtually free of a body fat percentage, is a bluntly honest man who comes on strong, openly expressing his attraction to her.
The storyline is very effective for this entry in the genre. Baldoni, who also directed the film, has undeniable chemistry with Lively; however, when two people are this good-looking, they could have chemistry with a dumpster on fire, if needed. The narrative is a classic romantic chase, with a rich, handsome man pursuing a woman with a damaged past full of dark secrets.
The scenes can be steamy and engaging, with Lively adding an entertaining mix of eccentricities, along with some humor and heat, that serve the story well.
You also have Jenny Slate playing Ryle’s sister and Lily’s best friend, Allysa. Slate is the film’s secret weapon, bringing a healthy dose of comic relief that balances the romance and the heavy subject of domestic violence. Hasan Minhaj, who plays Allysa’s husband, Marshall, has his moments but is relatively underused, primarily serving as a straight man to Slate’s offbeat character.
It Ends with Us then begins to hit the romance genre’s erogenous zones by tying the past with the present, introducing the return of Bloom’s first love from high school, Atlas (1923’s Brandon Sklenar, a movie star in the making), who just happens to have opened a restaurant that pays homage to their young adult romance. And yes, once again, their chemistry is undeniable—the kind that only, yada yada yada, two beautiful people can have on the silver screen.
Now we have another classic Hollywood genre trope: who will Lily choose—Ryle, Atlas, or possibly a character with a less pretentious and silly or stupid name?
The script by Daddio’s Christy Hall is clever, and I fully expect to be brutalized for this opinion. For some reason, I feel the need to justify the statement, which I will do in a moment, but I think it is important to note that I am looking at this film through a socially conscious lens. Also, if you are worried about spoilers, you will want to skip the rest of the review (and bookmark). The main criticism of It Ends with Us is that it normalizes domestic abuse. This is a fair point, to a degree, especially for anyone who is triggered by the subject and has experienced such atrocities.
As someone with a professional background in clinical mental health, I find that Hall’s approach to the source material essentially puts a “beard” on the domestic violence experienced by the main character. In the novel, the reader immediately knows that Ryle is abusing Lily. However, in the film, each incident is depicted as an accident. Hall and Baldoni allow the viewer to experience the abuse through the victim’s perspective of normalization, stemming from her observation of her parents’ abusive relationship.
When the filmmakers eventually reveal the extent of the abuse, it may not be surprising and could feel somewhat contrived. Still, it provides an emotional impact for a genre that usually falls flat, creating unsettling moments that engage the viewer. At this point, the divisiveness may either spark reactions from viewers as well-intentioned or lead others to argue that the film’s portrayal is overly benevolent.
However, Hoover has commented that the book is based on her own experiences with her family’s intimate partner violence, suggesting that the ending, which closely mirrors the novel, represents the author’s way of finding closure for herself, which is understandable. Nor will I judge Hoover for spinning her book into romance to put the subject on a larger platform for awareness.
From that standpoint, who are we to judge?
It Ends with Us never asks you to normalize abuse or even agree with the author, the filmmakers, or the character’s interpretation. Even the film’s eye-opening ending scene, where Lily breaks the news to her husband that she wants a divorce while he is holding their child, might seem ill-advised, but it represents an effort to break the cycle of abuse—not for herself, but for their daughter.
Yes, It Ends with Us is a film about generational domestic abuse that may be seen as overly idealistic. While it might be far from the art we expect from such weighty subject matter, and the gesture may feel artificial, it is nonetheless meaningful in portraying the power of healing and moving forward because of the main character’s dormant and suddenly active power of resilience.
Albeit, in a way where a paid spokesperson would call a Flintstone vitamin medicine, but well-intentioned nonetheless.
