Written by Alycia Poirier, Edited by Naomi Decker

Introduction

      Through entertainment media, we often expect to escape to another universe or delve into a new experience. In recent years, however, there seems to be an increase in films centred around an encompassing movement in our lives: feminism. While many of these films are imperfect, they have helped a large audience understand what women go through. In this article, I analyze various aspects of Don’t Worry Darling (2022) to determine whether this film has helped or harmed the feminist agenda.

Don’t Worry Darling and Incel Culture

      Directed by Olivia Wilde and starring Florence Pugh and pop sensation Harry Styles, Don’t Worry Darling centers on the lives of a 1950s couple, Alice and Jack. This self-proclaimed “feminist thriller” aims to analyze antiquated sexist ideologies that were ever-present in the mid-twentieth century (Rao 2022). Alice and Jack inhabit a town called Victory, a bright-coloured utopia where the men leave daily to collect “progressive materials” for their community. Except, Wilde’s twist reveals that the couple and their neighbours are from the 21^st century, where Jack is a miserable incel engrossed with the Victory Project’s leader, Frank (Chris Pine). Everything about the setting of this movie is already confining– the dizzying repetition of mundane tasks, the forbiddance to cross into a certain territory– so, the big reveal leaves the audience unimpressed (Angus 2022). We learn that Jack is heavily embedded in his extreme misogyny and is disgruntled when his 21st-century wife has a life outside their marriage as a surgeon. Incels, a term coined in the 1990s, refers to involuntarily celibate men, usually white, who are “disenfranchised and harbour dangerously sexist views of women,” and feel as though women owe them some sort of repartition (Rao 2022). Jack joins Frank’s program, or rather cult, to force Alice into his 1950s suburban housewife fantasy using a VR-like machine. In the end, when Alice finally learns the truth, she kills Jack, without knowing it leaves him dead in the 21st century as well.

The Other Women

      Although the film’s concept is fascinating, it leaves little to the imagination. While Alice’s story speaks to many women today concerning bodily autonomy and the rise of misogynistic hatred, it fails to explore the deeper complexities at hand. Frank’s wife, Shelley (Gemma Chan), is entirely aware that she is in a simulation and even enforces it, as does Alice’s friend Bunny (Olivia Wilde). Why are these women willing to endure this oppressive model? Could this be considered a betrayal of their own sex? Do they owe the truth to the other women? Answers to these questions would have made the film more compelling and provided effective commentary on women’s compliance with the roles patriarchy has assigned to them.

I also wonder: Can these women, who have chosen this life, consider themselves oppressed? The inherent power dynamics of patriarchy point to yes; however, some women, especially Shelley, seem to derive power from this structure. Shelley thrives in Victory, but she consents to the simulation. Her choice was wildly individualistic, whereas the other women were forced to comply. In all, I don’t believe Shelley would consider herself oppressed, as she is exploiting other women’s bodies. This makes her, in my opinion, a contributing force to the oppression.

Bodily Autonomy and Consent

When it is revealed that Jack is an incel seeking his 1950s suburban fantasy, the audience is expected to understand this film as presenting a feminist solution. However, all of the scenes thereafter are still illusions of supposed equality. Wilde portrays Alice escaping from Victory to the 21st century as the moment she regains her autonomy, without considering that 21st-century women do not have total freedom and bodily autonomy. The very proof of this is that Jack, and other men, can easily take control of women with a simple VR setup with little to no consequences. Sure, Frank and Jack get murdered at the end, but does that account for all the psychological and physiological damage they’ve caused? Currently, women’s bodily autonomy is being attacked by pro-life discourse, sexual abuse and assault, and female genital mutilation, so it is irresponsible for Wilde to suggest that Alice will enjoy equality outside of Victory. Alice’s future is uncertain, and although it may not be as confining as Victory, the reality isn’t as jubilant as Wilde posits it to be (Rao 2022).

Furthermore, Wilde suggests that the women in Victory are oppressed because of their status as housewives and mothers rather than their overt manipulation and forced complacency (Dillon 2022). This makes it clear that Wilde aims to demonize women who choose to stay home rather than work. A dominant factor within feminism relies on the freedom of choice, so one should not be demonized for one’s choices.

The film’s message is further diluted by its faulty notion of consent. All sexual scenarios, and even Alice’s mere existence in the simulation, violate her bodily autonomy and right to consent. She was never consulted by Jack and was forced into a situation she neither wanted nor accepted. He was unhappy in his marriage, and instead of voicing his concerns or leaving his wife, he claimed her body for himself, regardless of what Alice wanted. The very fact that Alice’s body is in a drug-induced coma suggests that she indeed did not consent. The repealing of her consent and bodily autonomy is never mentioned in the film, even when the revelation of Jack being a crazed incel comes to light. Wilde claims that this film centers around “female pleasure,” despite the fact that Alice never consents to the acts she performs (Angus 2022). Wilde details many sex scenes between Alice and Jack to show the discrepancy between how “happy” Alice is in the simulated world versus her disposition in the 21st century. Wilde seems to equate female sexual pleasure with consent, which contradicts the framing of this film as a feminist triumph. Wilde ignores the fact that Jack is essentially assaulting Alice. One cannot accurately measure Alice’s happiness because her bodily autonomy is constantly disregarded. Portraying Alice as enjoying herself completely discounts Alice’s ultimate realization that her consent has been infringed upon. Seeing Alice “enjoying” herself perpetuates the tired and harmful narrative that if a sexual assault victim exhibits physical signs that they are “enjoying” it, then it doesn’t “count” as assault. Wilde’s surface-level understanding of sexual assault is concerning, and a film that prides itself on female pleasure should consider the harmful narrative that it perpetuates.

Wilde ends the film on a “cliffhanger” where the audience is left to wonder if Alice is back in the 21st century, which completely deflates the complexity and importance of Alice’s internal struggle against patriarchal systems of power. She becomes trapped within her own body as she begins understanding the level of violation she has suffered. Alice ends up in a metaphorical and physical void. The audience hears an audible gasp to suggest that Alice has woken up from her simulation but omits the visual impact of her regaining a shred of freedom. While it is maddening that no restitution was given to Alice’s character, it does reflect the universal experience women face, wherein there is no feminist utopia. Women must move past trauma as quickly as they were forced into it. 

A Critique: Amplifying the White Woman’s Experience

  Don’t Worry Darling is a film that only speaks to the white experience. At the beginning of the film, we meet Margaret (Kiki Layne), a housewife who has gone “insane” as she begins questioning her own reality. Gaslighting and isolation ultimately lead to her suicide, which she sees as the only way out of Victory and herself. Margaret’s concerns are never taken seriously while she is alive. However, it is Margaret’s eventual death that leads Alice to question the validity of Victory herself. In other words, Margaret is a pawn to further Alice’s story. We never hear about Margaret again, and it’s not hard to imagine why: her only significance in the plot is to develop a white woman’s story. By excluding her from the central narrative, Wilde denies exploring Margaret’s difficulties. Can this film truly be an effective feminist commentary if it is only inclusive to a select group of women? The film lacks substance by failing to explore the experiences of women of colour. Wilde also fails to acknowledge the often racist and bigoted beliefs held by incels (Angus 2022). Incel culture partly stems from white supremacy, and for Wilde to ignore this is irresponsible at best and dangerous at worst. The incel’s inability to see women of colour as “real” women keeps BIPOC women from being at the center of this film. Although Wilde introduces interracial couples, the majority of BIPOC characters are women. This is because incels believe they are entitled to keep women under their control, and BIPOC women are seen as easier to “conquer” than white women. This keeps the incels from being “corrupted by the modern world”; They want to prevent women, particularly women of colour, from having their own rights and choices (Angus 2022).

Conclusion: A Feminist Defeat 

Effective, perceptive, and inclusive feminist commentary is extremely hard to come by. Although, when it is done well, it can create meaningful discourse. To have a truly compelling feminist film, Wilde could have explored the ecology surrounding her characters, such as race, the complicity of women under the patriarchy, consent, and bodily autonomy. Don’t Worry Darling may have stunning visuals and an outstanding performance from Pugh, but it lacks the depth required for making effective feminist commentary.

References

Angus, Haaniyah. 2022. “Don’t Worry Darling is Peak White Feminism (As Expected).” Refinery29, September 28, 2022. https://www.refinery29.com/en-gb/dont-worry-darling-white-feminism

Banet-Weiser, Sarah and Laura Portwood-Stacer. 2017. “The traffic in feminism: an introduction to the commentary and criticism on popular feminism.” Feminist Media Studies, 17:5, 884-888, DOI: 10.1080/14680777.2017.1350517

Dillon, Meghan. 2022. “What Olivia Wilde’s ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ Gets Wrong About Masculinity.” Evie Magazine, October 5, 2022. https://www.eviemagazine.com/post/what-olivia-wildes-dont-worry-darling-gets-wrong-about-masculinity

Horton, Adrian. 2022. “The empty feminism of Don’t Worry Darling.” The Guardian, September 26, 2022. https://www.theguardian.com/film/2022/sep/26/dont-worry-darling-movie-empty-feminism

Kornfield, Sarah and Hannah Jones. 2021. “#MeToo on TV: Popular feminism and episodic sexual violence.” Feminist Media Studies, DOI: 10.1080/14680777.2021.1900314

Mehrtens, Michelle. 2022. “The Feminist Inspiration Behind ‘Don’t Worry Darling.” Smithsonian Magazine, September 22, 2022. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/the-feminist-inspiration-behind-dont-worry-darling-180980810/

Rao, Sonia. 2022. “Let’s talk about the big reveal in ‘Don’t Worry Darling.” The Washington Post, September 24, 2022. https://www.washingtonpost.com/arts-entertainment/2022/09/24/dont-worry-darling-reveal/

Wilde, Olivia, director. 2022. Don’t Worry Darling. New Line Cinema. 2h., 3min.