Lily and Ryle’s burgeoning relationship feels a little surface-level — what does she see in this guy, beyond his desperate love-bombing and obviously angular jawline? — but soon the narrative digs a little deeper, offering flashbacks to Lily’s first love with Brandon Sklenar’s Atlas Corrigan — another very silly name — along with her history of witnessing domestic violence, and her fear of the cycle of abuse continuing into her own relationships.
When the threat of violence for Lily does indeed begin to swell, the film goes to genuinely tense places. Lively is excellent in these moments, demonstrating what calculations women have to do to protect themselves when faced with potential threats. It’s dicey, distressing material, but the film handles it sensitively and without sensationalism, respecting its characters, even those causing harm.
There is a particularly well-played scene towards the end with Lily’s best friend Allysa, played by Jenny Slate — for the most part relegated to the comic-relief bezzie role — which emphasises solidarity and support and female friendship above all else. It’s sweet and surprisingly moving. So is this film. Readers of the book should be pleased.