Luca Guadagnino’s college cancel culture drama ‘After the Hunt’ flunks out

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Julia Roberts plays Alma, a driven but unhappy philosophy professor at Yale, in Luca Guadagnino’s stylish new film, “After the Hunt.” She projects a carefully crafted image – even when she’s feeling ill. The film opens with Alma vomiting in a restroom, but remarkably, her pristine white pants stay clean, suggesting she’s adept at maintaining appearances.

Honestly, the story really throws you for a loop. This student, Maggie, accuses Hank – one of the teachers and a close friend of the main character – of something awful. But he claims he was just checking on her because he suspected academic dishonesty. It’s this messy ‘he said, she said’ situation, and the film doesn’t seem interested in *what actually happened* – it’s all about how everyone *reacts* to the accusations. You’re left wondering if this will ruin anyone’s career, and it’s unsettling how little the truth seems to matter.

I’m really excited about Luca Guadagnino’s new film! He clearly loves using strong, interesting settings – remember his last ones with tennis and those vibrant Mexican bars? Well, he’s tackling the world of Ivy League universities now, and it seems perfect for his style. The movie starts with a playful nod to Woody Allen, using those quick, scrolling credits with the sound of a ticking clock. Then, right away, the story dives into a huge debate everyone’s talking about: is ‘cancel culture’ really a fair way to deal with things? It’s going to be thought-provoking, I can already tell!

Alma and her friends, whether in classrooms, at gatherings, or during work meetings, love to show off their intelligence with complex words and inside jokes. Hank, a character with a working-class background, often makes cynical comments – like joking about the philosopher Hegel’s secret family life – and everyone in the group understands the subtle references to their own shared flaws and inappropriate behavior. There’s a lot of unspoken tension and attraction, subtly highlighted by the film’s visual style, such as a shot of Hank framed with a wine bottle pointed towards his groin.

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The people in this story, particularly those from Yale, seem more interested in being right than in finding real solutions. This suits Guadagnino just fine, as he doesn’t think there *are* any easy answers. He’s created a puzzling story that doesn’t offer any genuine insight or helpful guidance. It’s hard to tell if the characters believe their own rules don’t apply to them, if they’re simply foolish, or if the story forces them to act that way to mislead the audience. Either way, whenever someone admits a mistake, it’s a good time to enjoy a glass of Pinot.

Guadagnino’s film sharply criticizes the world of academia, portraying it as filled with self-important and fearful people stuck in their own narrow, and often superficial, ideas. The film’s cold, harsh lighting seems to express disdain for everyone, including a dean who prioritizes appearances over genuine meaning. A constant, unsettling sound of emergency sirens underscores the tension. One scene is set outside a lecture titled “The Future of Jihadism Is Female,” a deliberately provocative topic likely intended to attract media attention – but we never actually hear the lecture itself.

Alma and Hank are both working towards permanent positions, and they’re very invested in maintaining their Yale identities. Maggie, however, is less defined – her main characteristic is a lack of strong personality. She’s a queer woman dating a nonbinary law student named Alex, and she’s portrayed as an uninspired thinker, almost as if she’s trying to become a copy of Alma. The film hints at a possible erotic attraction between them, but doesn’t fully explore it, likely to avoid reinforcing harmful stereotypes about predatory same-sex relationships.

It takes a while for the movie to reveal that Maggie comes from a very wealthy family – they’ve even donated money to Yale. This raises questions about why she isn’t using her family’s influence and why she’s only relying on her partner for legal help instead of professional lawyers her parents likely have access to. Her wealth feels like an afterthought, added to the story to make the audience less inclined to sympathize with her, as if to challenge our own tendency to root for the underdog. It seems like the film is pointing a finger at our own biases.

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Alma is trying so hard to avoid being caught up in the scandal that it’s frustrating to see the story from her limited perspective. She grew up believing she needed to please powerful men and view other women as rivals or playthings, and she’s very good at separating her feelings from her actions. She simply can’t understand why Maggie would present herself as a victim. Her friend Kim, a psychiatrist, jokes about how people used to just suppress their feelings and develop unhealthy coping mechanisms instead.

Alma kept a secret from everyone, something that happened before the internet made things harder to hide. Even her husband, Frederik, doesn’t know what it is. The only remaining proof is a faded newspaper article, but the real sign is her ongoing suffering—a pain that manifests physically and leads her to cope with alcohol and medication, showing how unresolved trauma continues to damage her life.

Frederik, the therapist, initially appears to be the most sensible character. However, his sudden and surprisingly dramatic outburst at dinner makes you question his stability – in a funny way. Later, Alma finds him conducting an imaginary orchestra with a spatula while cooking, looking disheveled and a bit like a character from a German Expressionist film. It’s unclear if this is intentional, but the movie features a surprising number of German names, even for characters who supposedly live in Connecticut – Hank, for example, is actually named Henrik.

The movie hints at fascinating, hidden depths within its characters, but ultimately keeps those secrets buried. Everyone has compelling reasons for acting the way they do – unrequited loves, difficult family histories, or simmering resentments – but these are revealed so late in the film that understanding their choices feels impossible. Trying to figure out *why* they do what they do is a frustrating exercise, like trying to read something that’s already been wiped clean.

I was hoping the movie would be more disturbing, but it didn’t quite get there. The actors do their best – Roberts convincingly portrays a bleak and stern character, culminating in a powerful emotional scene that touches on sensitive issues. Garfield is irritatingly charming, and Edebiri plays a strangely subdued role, almost like a ghostly figure. Each actor directly addresses the camera in very close-up shots, desperately trying to win the audience over to their point of view.

Hank is right – someone constantly on the defensive can’t prove their innocence, and we’ve heard all the justifications already. However, even in a story filled with secrets and snooping, his story about confronting Maggie about plagiarism late at night while drunk just doesn’t seem believable. The director portrays Hank as so suspicious that it feels like a challenge to the audience: we’d be foolish to trust him, and even more foolish if he *is* innocent. But if Hank is actually a master manipulator, the final scene with Alma doesn’t make sense.

What forces are shaping college campuses today? Are traditional power structures – like those symbolized by the stern statue of Yale’s founder – still dominant? It’s notable that the supporting characters are often women and people of color (and Maggie embodies both). Hank, while angrily dismissing diverse classrooms as filled with entitled complainers, is shown to be a windbag himself, rarely letting students share their thoughts. When Katie, a standout student, questions their approach, she’s quickly shut down and reprimanded.

It’s not until the very end of “After the Hunt” that we learn the events didn’t happen in the present day. An epilogue reveals the story unfolded in the fall of 2020, and the college campus has evolved again five years later. Guadagnino seems to be suggesting the pandemic and its aftermath caused a shift in what people value, but this thought, like much of the film, feels like a fleeting, minor detail.

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2025-10-09 13:36