‘Don’t Worry Darling’ works (just barely) | movie review

Don’t Worry Darling follows a 50s housewife begins to suspect that the desert oasis that she and her husband call home may not be as idealistic as it appears

I’m not going to talk specifically about all the well-documented drama around Don’t Worry Darling in this review (if you just emerged from an underground bunker, here’s a refresher). What I will say is I choose to believe Harry Styles spit on Chris Pine. However, the intrigue around the movie’s production and press tour do color my feelings about the movie. They don’t directly affect them, however, it does supply an explanation. That’s because I don’t think Don’t Worry Darling is a bad movie, as is often the case with projects with feuding creatives. There is a strong vision, and, at least half of the runtime, the movie delivers on that vision. But hearing that director Olivia Wilde was absent for part of the production explains why the vision was never completed. 

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Don’t Worry Darling isn’t exactly a fresh story—it very much feels like an amalgamation of The Stepford Wives, The Village, and an episode of Black Mirror. Refreshingly, though, the movie knows that. Instead of wasting some of its running time trying to trick you into thinking things are normal for the sake of its own magic trick, immediately you know something is off in its world. While Alice (Florence Pugh) and Jack Chambers (Harry Styles) seem like a young, happy couple living in an idyllic dessert company town in the 1950s, Wilde makes it clear with John Powell’s sinister score and quick cuts to a mysterious black-and-white film of synchronized swimmers that things aren’t as they seem. 

Throughout the first half, tension is slowly ratcheted up as we learn more about the town of Victory, California. Wives wait at home as their husbands leave each day to work on some unspecified project, they’re not allowed to drive or leave town limits, and the town’s creator Frank (Chris Pine) is an omnipresent force in their lives. Of course, they’re also discouraged from asking questions. There’s a satirical quality to the perfect pastel-colored world that Wilde creates, which is punctuated by strong supporting performance from Kate Berlant and Gemma Chan. But it’s Margaret (a wildly underused Kiki Layne, who was last seen in The Old Guard and If Beale Street Could Talk) who starts to break down the illusion for Alice. 

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However, as impressive as that world-building is, what counts is what you do with it—and that’s where Don’t Worry Darling falters. In the second half of the film, after Alice for the first time acknowledges that something is amiss, the movie struggles to be compelling while leaving its sterling world-building patina behind. It’s partially a function of the twist, which you could honestly call during Frank’s first speech to the community about control and order. However, there are a few fun campy reveals (whether intentional or unintentional) that helped bolster the movie from complete boredom. 

Much of my problem with the second half stems from the movie’s lack of direction (or a director). It felt as if each scene went a little too long yet never furthered the plot or added color to the characters. If the screenplay doesn’t fill in the gaps, it’s up to the director to—and if rumors are to be believed there might not have been one. It’s a shame because Pugh—who has never been less than magnificent in movies like Midsommar and Little Woman—does some of her best work in those scenes. A climactic dinner scene where things finally come out into the open is a particularly impressive acting showcase—and tests the limits of Styles’ acting ability.

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Florence Pugh famously said, “the nature of hiring the most famous pop star in the world, you’re going to have conversations like that.” Those conversations involved the explicit sex scenes scattered throughout the movie. And while Harry Styles’ most-famous-man-in-the-world persona works for some of the movie, when he plays outside of that type his skills as an actor are stretched to their absolute limits. Even my audience filled with Styles’ couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his more emotional moments. 

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Hey! I’m Karl. You can find me on Twitter here. I’m also a Tomatometer-approved critic.

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