Don’t Worry Darling has only so many avenues it can go down, and the isolation of Victory implies fewer still. This is one of those films that rests heavily on third act reveals, and where Katie Silberman’s, Carey Van Dyke’s, and Shane Van Dyke’s script lands successfully evokes the present day in their period drama. The script exists less for its taut plotting than for the quickly apparent reason why this movie was made when it was. Twists notwithstanding, Wilde pulls off both the choreographed uniformity of the neighborhood and Alice’s creeping dread. Cinematographer Matthew Libatique borrows from his earlier work on Black Swan, another story of psychological decomposition that featured ballerinas. There’s a horror influence here in how the eye is drawn to the thing that doesn’t quite fit, a visual representation of the setting’s classic theme. It’s a handsome package, meticulously fussed over like a housewife with a feather duster.
Wilde’s greatest coup is getting Pugh in the lead. An eminently watchable actor, Pugh carries the entire film. Alice’s perspective dominates, with all but a couple scenes taking place from her view, and there are few young performers with more onscreen charisma than her. She gives a full-body performance, selling how her mind and body are rebelling against her surroundings. Her most effective onscreen partner is Pine, Mephistophelian in how he’s manipulating the proceedings. In a rare antagonist performance from this classic leading man, Pine makes the most of his opportunity. Plenty of others are given the chance to shine, with Don’t Worry Darling being the first time I’ve liked Layne and Gemma Chan, playing Frank’s wife. Wilde also gets meta in how she casts the neighborhood men, with the likes of Nick Kroll, Timothy Simons, and Doug Smith as the local masters of the universe. Styles is the outlier, stuck between English and American accents and unable to match what Pugh’s laying down. Wilde sticks him in an absurd mid-film dance scene that feels like she’s letting off steam. This guy’s been lowering the cast’s collective output, I’ll make him tap dance for a, awkwardly long time.
Don’t Worry Darling is melodramatic popcorn fun with an amount of unfulfilled potential. There’s a better film here, but it ends up being too obvious in what it’s saying and too mysterious in how it gets there. This is a step down from Booksmart for Wilde, but not such a dramatic one that she’s disallowed from taking many more shots. Maybe just stay away from the pop stars next time. C+