The following article contains mention of domestic violence, so please only proceed if you are of the appropriate mindset to do so.
The following article contains spoilers.
It was a typical Sunday afternoon when I heard my familiar text tone accompanied by the message, “Do you wanna go see It Ends With Us on Tuesday?” Obliviously, I responded with something like, “Of course I do!” That following week, one of my best friends and I purchased our tickets and settled in for what we believed to be a cheesy rom-com book adaptation starring Blake Lively — whom both of us loved and trusted with this seemingly cliché film. As someone whose dream job is to be a screenwriter, I tend to favor going into a movie without reading any synopses. Trailers give too much of the plot away anyway, so I typically go into movie theaters blind – with no expectations. Going into this movie blind was a mistake.
The movie follows Lively’s character, Lily Blossom Bloom (we don’t have enough time to get into this), after she moves to Boston to pursue her dream of opening her own flower shop. There, she meets enchantingly-handsome neurosurgeon Ryle. About 30 minutes into the movie, there is a scene vividly depicting domestic violence (DV).
This scene completely blindsided both my friend and me. As the rest of the movie played out, it became apparent that the “It” in the film’s title alludes to DV. Although I have very intense feelings about the film as a whole, I will say its depiction of DV in a relationship was the most accurate my friend and I had ever seen.
The introduction of Ryle foreshadowed the rest of the plot, as he was already acting violent toward an inanimate object (but violent nonetheless). Like the main character, I quickly overlooked this. The story continued, and we came to understand Lily’s father was abusive to her mother. The first time Ryle struck Lily, I, along with Lily, had assumed it was some horrible accident. Everything happened quickly, and the camera angle was bizarre, done purposely. The cinematography was meant to confuse viewers and replicate how Lily felt in that moment. The last time Ryle was violent toward her, she, along with my friend and myself, finally realized what had been happening.
I appreciated how it portrayed Ryle as beautiful, intelligent, and successful, and abusive. Typically, from the media I consume, I see abusers as old and unhappy, but this portrayal was unique. Even the sexiest and sharpest people can be abusive. This concept seems obvious, but I have never seen such a characterization on the big screen.
Now, there are huge caveats regarding this topic that the producers chose to ignore. The first and most important is the lack of disclaimers at the beginning. There was no warning before the movie began and no disclaimer in any trailer. After our viewing, I read several summaries of the film on well-known websites, like RottenTomatoes, all of which fail to mention domestic violence. This lack of care or thought for the viewer is incredibly disappointing. Upon further research, I concluded the book’s author, Colleen Hoover, had the impression that a disclaimer would spoil the plot. If this proves true, that is utterly terrible reasoning. That lack of concern leads me to believe that instead of educating viewers about DV, this film romanticizes abuse.
Associate professor and interim director at the Domestic Violence Institute at Northeastern University Hayat Bearat tells Northeastern Global News, “It seems like a love story. […] It seems to make light of domestic violence and equates it to a toxic relationship. There’s a big difference, and the author really doesn’t grasp that. […] It’s worrisome in terms of the messaging that it may have for the younger generation. Someone that might find themselves in an abusive relationship (or) might not know they’re in an abusive relationship or might think that this is OK.”
The friend whom I went to watch the movie with was in an abusive relationship when she was 16 years old. So, viewing this movie forced her to revisit those traumatic memories she tried so desperately to grow from. My friend told me how she remembered the way that, immediately after a violent outburst, he showered her with more affection than she thought possible; the way she attempted to address conflicts when people were near, so she did not have to brace his bruteness; how she knew what abuse looked like; how she vowed never to be the victim. Yet, she now stares at the girl in the mirror and sees herself deteriorating. In this way, the film made my friend feel seen. She said she often felt foolish for thinking that the cruelty she endured was not detrimental enough to be deemed as abuse.
Similarly to what Bearat said, my friend felt that, while in the relationship, violence must have always intertwined with love. She was under the impression that that is what love was: the ultimate sacrifice of yourself or your body for the other person. After years of maturing and rumination, she says that she understands that it was domestic violence and that is not what always accompanies love. But this film brought that perspective back into her view. This movie made my friend feel 16 and confused again. Thankfully, she says, she now grasps that “abuse should not be a consequence of love.”
But what about those who are currently 16 and experiencing abuse by their partner? What about those who saw this film and continue to think that to love, you must endure cruelty? After watching the movie, what new information do they gain? Some argue that this film shows it is possible to break the cycle of abuse, but those currently struggling need resources that entertainment cannot provide.
The continued absence of resources during the credits further proves the point of romanticization. If the true goal of this film was to warn viewers of how easy it is to become a victim of abuse, why has the topic of DV hardly come up in the press tour?
I cannot express my anger at Lively, specifically in the interview with Jake Hamilton where she casually laughs off, and never actually answers, a question regarding survivors of DV. The way she skirts around the topic makes me furious. She posted to social media, “‘It Ends With Us’ is a story of the female experience. All the highest highs, and lowest lows …” This is problematic on so many levels. Abuse is not exclusive to women. Any person of any gender may experience physical violence at the hands of an intimate partner. My friend does not consider her abuse part of “the female experience,” and it is insulting to say such a thing.
Lastly, the first time I heard Lively address domestic violence head-on, she said she separated her character’s experience from the abuse she went through. Although this is good advice, domestic abuse survivors do not have this luxury. Unfortunately, they do not simply get to erase the past and not consider themselves survivors. Their past will always be with them in future relationships, romantic or platonic. Hence, the idea of separating the survivor from their past is impossible. Instead, they must grow. They have to follow the path of acceptance to acknowledge their trauma. Once they address the depth of their abuse, healing can begin.
I have to stress that though this may prove true for some, these words come from the mind of one survivor. Even as my friend has had years of therapy, she understands that her healing process starts and stops frequently, and that is okay. Healing is nonlinear and different for each person. There is no clear path to continue down after a traumatic event, but my friend proves it is possible.
To anyone who has ever struggled with domestic violence, and felt this movie profited off your pain, just know that you are seen as the person you are. You are simultaneously an individual and a survivor. You can focus on the future while reflecting on your past. You can exist as more than one thing at once; life is not as black and white as it seems.
If you or someone you know is struggling with domestic violence, call 800-799-7233, text BEGIN to 88788, or visit the National Domestic Violence Hotline‘s webpage.
