
Yannis Drakoulidis
Image courtesy of Amazon MGM Studios
Editor’s note: This review contains spoilers for ‘After the Hunt.’ The writers saw an early screening and attended a roundtable interview with the film’s director, screenwriter, and select cast members.
In “After the Hunt,” truth is elusive, motives are tangled, and no one is ever entirely innocent. As with all morally ambiguous films, there runs a fine line between on-screen complexity and behind-the-scenes cowardice. The film’s intent to challenge the certainties of the #MeToo movement — questioning whether the notion “believe all women” leaves room for nuance — could have yielded meaningful commentary. However, “After the Hunt” ultimately falters in its refusal to take a stance, ending with no clear resolution on whose story was “true.” When dealing with issues as grave as sexual assault and abuse of power, neutrality is not an intellectual stance. To leave audiences with nothing but interpretive freedom is to mistake indecision for insight.
Set at Yale University, the film follows a philosophy professor, Alma (Julia Roberts), whose student and mentee, Maggie (Ayo Edebiri), accuses Alma’s colleague Hank (Andrew Garfield) of sexual assault. This allegation unravels into a self-weaving web of half-truths, manipulations, and misplaced sympathies as the film invites viewers to question who, if anyone, is telling the truth.
Alma’s own history with sexual assault adds to the film’s inability to take a clear moral stance. A late-film twist reveals that a 14-year-old Alma, jilted after a breakup with her father’s friend, spread false allegations that the friend had sexually assaulted her.
Although this plot twist is meant to complicate Alma’s authority as Maggie’s mentor, it instead exposes the film’s limited understanding of trauma and accountability. In the present, Alma insists that she had full control over the relationship despite being 14, refusing to recognize her own victimhood. The narrative further fails to address this contradiction, instead using Alma’s past to cast the first doubt on Maggie’s accusation against Hank. By presenting Maggie’s plagiarism and Hank’s sexually coercive tendencies as equally compromising, “After the Hunt” equates youthful contradiction with deceit and treats predation as an interpersonal misunderstanding. This choice destroys the distinction between unreliability and complexity, ultimately suggesting that because the truth is slippery, “believing all women” is naive.
The more intriguing commentary presented in “After the Hunt” explores generational differences, contrasting Gen Z’s “victim mentality” with Gen X’s stoic pragmatism. The film uses Alma’s character to paint Gen X as docile and unflinching, even when confronted with issues as serious as sexual assault — an attitude reminiscent of a pre-#MeToo era that valorized silence as strength. In contrast, Maggie embodies Gen Z’s hypersensitivity — a tendency to interpret every emotional slight as moral injury. After the alleged assault, she confides in Alma but gets offended when Alma asks clarifying questions about the incident, analyzing her mentor’s reactions for sincerity. Maggie’s pain is portrayed through a performative lens: Her trauma is only valid if confirmed by other people. This depiction blurs the line between trauma and performance, suggesting that her response to the assault is more about control and perception than it is about accountability and seeking support.
This oppositional framing of the two generations felt both lazy and out of touch. “After the Hunt” leans heavily on broad generational archetypes — Gen X as restrained, Gen Z as self-absorbed — yet these characterizations feel more like narrative shorthand than psychological truth. While Gen Z is known for publicly and loudly engaging with trauma, it’s precisely this openness that has pushed societal discourse around controversial issues toward greater accountability and empathy. To frame sensitivity as a fault is to misunderstand it entirely.
Interestingly, Roberts herself resisted this interpretation: “I think it’s not so much generational as individual experience. What you know about [one’s relationship to #MeToo] I think comes more from that than from age or generation.” Moreover, Roberts also rejected being labeled as part of the “older generation,” hinting at how these binaries fail to reflect real attitudes toward power and accountability. Her comment subtly contradicts the film’s own framing, suggesting that where the screenplay leans into generational stereotypes, the actors themselves see something more universal in its conflicts.
Despite the disjointed nature of the plot, director Luca Guadagnino’s attention to detail is striking. The sterile elegance of Yale’s interior mirrors the character’s emotional repression — every frame feels deliberate and weighted. “Intentionality [is] a word that I associate with Luca,” Edebiri noted. “Everything from the art that’s hanging on the walls or a statue that there’s going to be a closeup of to what we’re doing with our hands — it’s in consideration. It’s in conversation.”
The film’s backdrop, the Yale campus, echoes the themes of power and privilege. Screenwriter Nora Garrett explained that choosing Yale as the film’s backdrop was intentional. “The Gothic architecture was something that I felt was very evocative because it’s both oppressive and lofty simultaneously,” she said. “Yale is such a storied institution that offers and promises a lot of privilege and contains a lot of privilege.” This environment reflects the world the film seeks to critique: one in which ambition and authority coexist uneasily, cloaked in prestige yet full of inequity. It is a world driven by self-preservation, where everyone acts to protect their own position.
Guadagnino offered his own perspective on the visual intentionality of “After the Hunt,” specifically, its portrayal of intimacy. “All these people are isolated in their own individuality and pursuit of affirmation of self somehow, finding the way to get what they want, that the intimacy is kind of fake,” he said. “And the actual dynamic is a dynamic of prevailing [upon] one another. In this movie, in particular, I think intimacy is the breaking point. In this movie, the desire for the other [person] — it’s an appearance. The conflict with the other is the moment where, finally, people get together.”
Beneath its marble halls and moral grayness, “After the Hunt” becomes a film about distance in relationships — teacher and student, truth and perception, art and accountability. Guadagnino renders that distance beautifully, but beauty alone can’t bridge it. In the end, his characters aren’t the only ones avoiding responsibility — the film does, too.
Rating: 2.5/5