IT ENDS WITH US – Review by Valerie Kalfrin
It Ends with Us is so well-intentioned about the sensitive subject of domestic violence that any critique of this romantic drama runs the risk of coming off as too harsh. While fans of Colleen Hoover’s best-selling novel might enjoy it, others might find it as contrived as some of the protagonist’s elaborate flower arrangements.
Blake Lively (IF, also a producer) stars as the improbably named Lily Bloom, a Maine native who relocates to Boston after a traumatic childhood. Lily’s abusive father dies right before her plans to open a whimsical flower shop, leaving her with conflicting feelings, especially about her mother (Amy Morton, Chicago P.D.).
Taking in the view from the rooftop of a Beantown high-rise, Lily meets Ryle (Justin Baldoni, Jane the Virgin), who storms onto the roof and kicks the furniture. The handsome neurosurgeon has a reason for the outburst, having lost a young patient that night, and the two’s comforting chatter soon turns flirtatious before Ryle’s pager summons him.
Lily figures she’ll never see him again. But after she hires Allysa (Jenny Slate) to get her shop up and running, who walks through the door but Allysa’s husband (Hasan Minhaj) and her brother, the dashing doctor?
Baldoni, who also directed (he previously helmed Clouds and Five Feet Apart), shows these two skittish people who have the hots for each other figuring out how to date through closeups and long takes where the rest of the world seems to melt away. Lively and Baldoni are an attractive pair, and the characters’ blissful relationship leaves Barry Peterson’s glossy cinematography, including aerial shots of the city and sunlight through trees, to paper over the slow spots.
Lily soon learns the owner of a new farm-to-table restaurant is Atlas (Brandon Sklenar, 1923), her high school love. Flashbacks show how a teenage Lily (Isabela Ferrer) befriended him after the teen Atlas (Alex Neustaedter), fleeing his own abusive home, hid out in the abandoned house next to hers.
The potential love triangle among the adults doesn’t quite mesh, partly because the script by Christy Hall (Daddio) doesn’t foreshadow enough of Ryle’s darker side to add significant dramatic tension. This might have worked better in the book, although the film deserves credit for not depicting Ryle as a two-dimensional monster. He’s broken in his own way, and when his anger flares, it’s easy to see how Lily can forgive it—until she wonders if she should.
Lively is lovely, both in Eric Daman’s costumes but also in conveying Lily’s ambivalence. Her Lily isn’t meek, but she also loves Ryle enough not to want to upset him once Atlas starts circling around, which only makes his jealousy worse. The earnest Sklenar unfortunately comes across as flat compared to Lively and Baldoni, but as Lily’s mom and her friend, Morton and Slate handle the expository and emotional moments well.
With its privileged world, It Ends With Us is too polished to tackle the questions of support and resources some women face regarding domestic violence. That said, its heart is enough in the right place that some people with similar experiences might find it relatable and encouraging.
