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‘Don’t Worry Darling’ Review: The Yellow Wallpaper, Exponentialized

Don’t Worry Darling has finally made its way to our screens after the Internet lost its collective mind at the announcement that Florence Pugh and Harry Styles would be playing a married couple in a film set in 1950s California. Olivia Wilde proves herself as a director for a second time in this beautifully shot, sophisticated film about one housewife who decides she has had enough of her suffocating surroundings. Don’t Worry Darling is simultaneously an adroit depiction of the dangers of patriarchy and a sun-soaked feast for the eyes.

The visuals of Don’t Worry Darling are nothing short of beautiful. Filmed in Palm Springs, the shots of the desert and midcentury modern homes give the film the illusion that it was filmed much longer ago than 2020. The costuming is equally lovely, complete with A-line dresses and Brigitte Bardot-inspired hairstyles.

Pugh is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the best part of the film. Her portrayal of Alice is perfect, with every line reading and facial expression communicating that Pugh is one of, if not the, defining actress of her generation and reigning queen of psychological horror films. She plays her part with the ferocity and care of a woman with an Oscar win in her future.

Seeing Don’t Worry Darling in a packed theater on its opening night among a crowd mostly made up of young women felt like the best way to experience it. The film has an undeniable feminist message that is especially driven home in the final act. In one particular moment where Alice takes a step to fight against the hurtful system in which she is trapped, the entire AMC Waterfront gasped and applauded. In an era of young men idolizing figures such as Andrew Tate, Darling is relevant and important for all to see.

Classics nerd, hardcore feminist, music lover.
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