Realism, 2000s Pop and Challenging Perceptions: Emerald Fennell and Carey Mulligan on ‘Promising Young Woman’

Graphic by Gill Kwok

Content warning: discussion of rape/sexual assault.

This article contains “Promising Young Woman” spoilers — if you have not seen it, read at your own risk!

Watching “Promising Young Woman,” the highly anticipated 2020 rape-revenge thriller, was a jarring experience, to say the least. I have now seen it twice and not a day goes by that I do not think about it: pondering Cassie’s fate and the extremely disappointing yet realistic nature of the ending, dreaming of Bo Burnham as a too-good-to-be-true romantic lead (before that reveal), replaying the invigorating scenes of iconic monologues performed by Carey Mulligan as Cassie (the dean’s office!) and feeling hopeless at the fact that no one can really be trusted. Emerald Fennell, who served as showrunner on the second season of “Killing Eve” and is also an actress, directed and wrote this film — her debut — which is unlike any film I have seen before. 

Despite the heavy subject matter, the screenplay is actually quite witty with many laugh-out-loud moments. It is a sharp, emotional rollercoaster; over the course of any given scene I felt frustration, deep sadness and jaw-dropping jolts like, “is this really happening right now?” Men’s abusive behavior and victim blaming women’s defense of such behavior is infuriating, and all of the excuses sound eerily familiar. It communicates how unfortunately universal this trauma is, and though the recent emergence of “Me Too” and “Times Up” somewhat provided a platform and safe space for survivors to tell their stories of assault, it is not a new issue and people continue to silence these voices. Cassie’s regularly conducted experiments testing “nice guys” who decide to take her home as she is pretending to be drunk (literally none of them pass the test) are paired with such smart writing which allows for Cassie’s complicated character to be developed comprehensively over the relatively short run time. I attended a Q&A hosted by American Cinematheque with the women Emerald Fennell and Carey Mulligan themselves, and gained fascinating insight into the process of crafting and telling this much-needed story.

Shot over 23 days, Fennell took inspiration from the revenge thriller genre, which she loves. Describing it as “very cathartic” and “the more bloodthirsty the better,” she explained that she wanted the story she told, the character she wrote, to feel as authentic as possible, and she observes that “women rarely resort to violence.” I had wondered why Cassie did not kill any of the men she went home with, as I originally expected after having only seen the trailer. Fennell said she wanted to put a real woman at the center, and when storytelling, she starts with the question: “What would I do?” “I don’t think I could shoot someone but I could ruin someone’s life,” she said. The choice to have her pursue revenge nonviolently is a deviation from the classic revenge thriller genre, and this method results in a more realistic tale and a relatable protagonist. 

The unfulfilled feeling I was left with at the end of the film after I first saw it was validated by Fennell’s explanation: “It is a revenge movie about why revenge is miserable and futile.” As Cassie goes on her personal journey of elaborate plans and step-by-step revenge scenarios, she is acting out of fierce loyalty and love for her late best friend, Nina, who was raped and later died by suicide. Her rapist, Al Monroe, just lives his life as if nothing ever happened. Cassie’s endeavors are how she copes with her own debilitating despair and grief, but it does not make her complete — it is a kind of addictive behavior. For the brief moment, her pain is relieved, but as the story goes on, it becomes more and more clear that her schemes do not feel good to her anymore. She is unraveling and it is not healthy. Fennell said that there is a reason that Cassie never looked up Al Monroe before, and instead sought to teach strangers a lesson “to give herself an illusion of control.” However, Cassie is aware that the moment she makes a decision to do something to Al Monroe, she is crossing a line she never has before and is entering uncharted territory that could and would immediately reopen the wounds that she thought were closed. 

A simple and yet very memorable scene happens right at the beginning after the title is shown; Cassie walks down a street and a group of construction workers start catcalling her. Instead of averting her eyes and walking away, or even putting them in their place verbally, she just stands there staring at them across the street, a “try me” expression on her face. The men get aggressive with their words, obviously fearful and unexpecting, and then eventually walk away. The moment is a beautiful introduction to her character. Fennell thinks that this part sums up the essence of Cassie’s actions over the course of the whole film: “She’s not doing anything except making people examine their own behavior.” In this moment, she also happens to be eating a hot dog with ketchup dripping down her arm resembling blood, a fantastic homage to slasher films. Regarding the hot dog, Fennell said, “Nothing better than a very on-the-nose phallic metaphor.” Learning this from her was absolutely hilarious because it did not even register in my brain while watching, but it is so clever.

Carey Mulligan is grateful to have played Cassie. Citing the scene where she forces herself to watch the video of Nina’s assault and discovers the truth about the man she fell in love with, she said though it is like a stab wound of surprise and pain and anger for the character, it was “fun stuff to play.” As soon as Ryan appears on that screen, the world around her collapses. They both discussed how Cassie, as guarded as she is, actually let someone in, only to be completely shocked and betrayed when his unacceptable involvement as a bystander in Nina’s rape is divulged. This was what struck me as her breaking point, understandably making her believe that there truly are no “nice guys.” 

The unfulfilled feeling I was left with at the end of the film after I first saw it was validated by Fennell’s explanation: “It is a revenge movie about why revenge is miserable and futile.”

The moments with Ryan where she was so happy and in love gave us a glimpse of the “promising young woman”: the girl she was before everything she has been through, what life could have been like. Ryan was an immensely important character, they said, because the audience had to believe he was this funny, perfect guy, a heartthrob, a crush. But it can all be ripped away in a second. Fennell cast beloved actors such as Burnham and Max Greenfield as enablers to subvert this idea of a “good guy.” It forces us as audience members to examine our reactions — this is a character who, if real, people would take his side, would not believe he would do such a thing. But he did. One of the most disturbing things about it is Ryan and so many others like him really believe that they are the “good guys” — it has never occurred to them that they really are not. At all.

The soundtrack was curated very carefully. It is an element that adds so much to the story, in my opinion, and is employed meaningfully in this film. Fennell says that so often, pop music is used ironically, deemed as frivolous and not taken seriously. She put together this soundtrack showcasing fun female early 2000s pop to challenge this view. With Britney, Paris Hilton (the pharmacy scene! The Pain I Feel Inside), “It’s Raining Men” (Fennell imagines what a bloodbath it would be if this physically occurred) and much more, all of it fits flawlessly and adds such significance with thematically pertinent lyrics. Plus, it is just great music! 

At the root of this film is the idea of these tools that women use every single day for survival. We are supposed to seem unthreatening and hide in plain sight and this is exactly what Cassie does, but she uses it to make her power known and make abusers aware of their own destructive behavior that actually does have a massive impact on other people, despite what they seem to think (or maybe they just do not care). Cassie also thought her actions out so meticulously and intelligently, including removing her license plates before entering Al’s bachelor party, and the contingency plan that comprises the ending. She knew what was likely to happen to her but she took that risk for Nina, the soulmate she lost.

The horror that they want to show with this film is so many people’s willingness to just brush off others’ trauma, tell them to forget about it. Fennell’s goal was to make the film as accessible as possible, and they hope that it can open up an honest conversation because it is harmful to cover these things up and not talk about it. Listening to these brilliant artists offer their wisdom about this mold-breaking, thought-provoking film was invaluable and inspired me to deliberate on its complexities even more. I do recommend giving it a watch, and having these crucial conversations with loved ones.