Woman of the Hour, 2024.

Directed by Anna Kendrick.
Starring Anna Kendrick, Daniel Zovatto, Tony Hale, Nicolette Robinson, Autumn Best, Pete Holmes, Andy Thompson, David Beairsto, Tighe Gill, Kathryn Gallagher, Kelley Jakle, Matt Visser, Jedidiah Goodacre, Dylan Schmid, Rob Morgan, Denalda Williams, Jessie Fraser, Max Lloyd-Jones, Nancy Kerr, James Yi, Jessica Chaffin, Matthew Kevin Anderson, Darcy Laurie, and Taylor Hastings.

SYNOPSIS:

Sheryl Bradshaw, a single woman looking for a suitor on a hit 1970s TV show, chooses charming bachelor Rodney Alcala, unaware that, behind the man’s gentle facade, he hides a deadly secret.

Somewhere between serial killer thriller and dark comedy takedown of sexist showbusiness industry standards, Anna Kendrick’s directorial debut Woman of the Hour gets at some psychologically uncomfortable truths about surviving in such a misogynistic world (especially for the 1970s in which the story unfolds, separated into different years and character threads) and the deceptiveness of a highly intelligent sociopath (a chilling Daniel Zovatto.) More tantalizingly, the film presents the bulk of the narrative on the stage of a matchmaking game show for supreme thrills, sharply editing back and forth through time with clever transitions that, yes, leave one hanging and eager to return, but equally invested in the wraparound events connected to the general premise.

This story is also based on actual events, but Anna Kendrick is so confident, comfortable, and skilled in telling this story she knows she doesn’t have to drop that bombshell until the film is over. Working from a screenplay by Ian McDonald, one would be forgiven for assuming this was all a brilliant, fictional premise that places an aspiring actress on a cheesy dating show alongside a chauvinistic host (Tony Hale) who encourages the titular woman of the hour to dumb her intelligence down and play up physical beauty to make herself more appealing to the uneducated and slimy bachelors, with one of those three being a sly-tongued, manipulative, murderous maniac capable of masking that ugly side for just enough time to lure his prey into isolation and danger.

Anna Kendrick also plays that frustrated LA-based actress who has trouble booking gigs. As Sheryl, it also gives the well-known actress ample opportunity to seemingly inject a more personal connection into the character whenever venting about such notorious Hollywood sexism (whether it be individuals likely being blacklisted from roles for refusing nudity or the demeaning types of characters they are expected to play, even on a reality TV game show.) One can only assume this behavior was rampant more in the 70s and somewhat eliminated in modern times, but the point is still largely valid and effective.

Woman of the Hour is not single-minded, though. Jumping around before and after this portion of the narrative, the focus turns to Rodney, the previously mentioned serial killer who is undoubtedly strange and unkempt but with enough charm and photography skills to earn the trust of young women and men, typically promising them modeling fame and an opportunity to win some money. Other times, he is in a lucky position to help out an unassuming soul before conducting his disturbing kills, which occasionally switch to the victim’s perspective to make the scenes all the more unsettling.

A third perspective follows Nicolette Robinson’s Laura, an audience member watching the game show who instantly recognizes Rodney as the man who sexually assaulted and murdered her friend. This is the shakiest part of the narrative, as the film slightly tries too hard to make everyone from her initially reasonable boyfriend to front desk security guards play down her concerns and make her out to be crazy. As filled with urgency as Nicolette Robinson’s terrified and traumatized performance is, there is a disconnect between observing men being forced to behave uselessly to keep the mechanics of dramatized elements of this true story working and men’s more genuinely scummy personalities here.

That’s mostly nitpicking since Woman of the Hour is a suspenseful, heart-pounding exercise. It feels like it shouldn’t work, considering the narrative jumps backward and forwards, but it does, which is also a testament to the film making viewers deeply care about these characters, from the protagonist to the victims. Anna Kendrick has also clearly learned a lot over the years from acting, elevating tension through tense cinematography (working with Zach Kuperstein), such as a wide-angle tracking shot tapping into the heart-racing fear of being a woman walking alone at night. She also arguably delivers the best performance of her career, especially when her capacity to play by the host’s rules goes out the window, demonstrating her intelligence and putting the men in the hot seat with tough questions. Again, the scariest part is that the most dangerous, sadistic person in the room maliciously adapts to that, practically knowing what she wants to hear.

Where Woman of the Hour ultimately ends up is also thrilling and challenging, suggesting that, even if it is profoundly messed up, the greatest survival mechanism for women is outsmarting even the most calculated, despicable men. 

Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★

Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com

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