The Hunt

The Hunt is a joyfully provocative action-satire that uses political divisiveness as a weapon for gory pleasure. Despite its satirical blade cutting unevenly, the film delivers real chuckles and physical thrills.

As an unstoppable force of nature, Betty Gilpin transforms Crystal, a down-to-earth Mississippian with secret reservoirs of skill and slyness, into an immediate action star. Deadpan comedy, survivalist ferocity, and unexpected sensitivity are the three frequencies that her performance concurrently functions on. The film's most incisive pleasures come from Gilpin's line readings, but her body sells every violent clash. She develops a heroine who is both uniquely specific and universally pleasing whether she calmly presents her beliefs about the scheme to a dying rival or questions the hunt's architect with rustic pragmatism.

Nick Cuse and Damon Lindelof's screenplay is crafted with devilish insight. The film quickly undermines spectator loyalty and expectations with its chaotic opening sequence of "deplorables" waking up gagged in a field. Together with political commentary, the following revelations—who these individuals are, why they were chosen, and how completely they have been misinterpreted—create real narrative momentum. Action scenes, such as a blender fight in the kitchen, a trident deployment in a field, and a magnificently extravagant ending that justifies its extravagance through built-up tension, combine comedy and terror with Tarantino-esque boldness.

Despite its breadth, the satire strikes with enough accuracy to warrant its provocations. Without elevating its conservative antagonists, who demonstrate an equal capacity for brutality and credulity, the film parodies the pretense of the liberal elite—organic snacks, obscure cultural allusions, and performative allyship. The Hunt accomplishes something more uncommon than political humor by portraying both sides as horrible in distinct registers: true pessimism on America's potential for understanding one another.

Sometimes the political balancing act seems like cowardice masquerading as bravery. The movie occasionally avoids adhering to any cohesive viewpoint other than "everyone is terrible" by making sure both sides are ridiculed. This may be a true reflection of the nation's weariness, but it also lessens the satire's impact since when everyone is deserving of criticism, particular targets become amorphous into widespread disdain. Despite their cleverness, the third-act revelations on the hunt's real beginnings partly undermine the established class warfare dynamics in ways that seem more narratively handy than thematically justified.

Beyond Crystal, the characterization is intentionally sparse, but sometimes it is also too thin to justify the violence they experience. Certain scenes appear cruel rather than righteously enraged because some victims serve just as joke delivery systems—exaggerated clichés that are sent before we recognize them as human. Though skillfully portrayed, Athena (Hilary Swank's antagonist) is given little screen time to grow beyond arch mastermind, and her motivations are more explained than dramatized.

The pacing is hampered by its repeated pattern, especially in the middle section: escape, confrontation, death, repeat. Although each set piece is impressive on its own, the effect of the whole sometimes dulls rather than accentuates.

Even when its satirical aspirations are beyond its reach, The Hunt is a successful midnight film provocation and star-making vehicle. The cost of admission is justified by Gilpin's performance alone; she crafts an action heroine for a time of weary cynicism who is skilled not through training montages but rather via accumulated life experience. In the end, the film's determination to offend everyone seems less courageous than it initially appears, yet its memorable exploitation cinema is made possible by the skillful chaos and the accuracy of its lead performance. If you're looking for a clear political statement, you'll be disappointed; if you're looking for a sleek, unabashed genre film, you'll find much to enjoy.

Staff:

Directed by: Craig Zobel

Written by: Nick Cuse and Damon Lindelof

Produced by: Jason Blum and Damon Lindelof

Starring: Ike Barinholtz, Betty Gilpin, Emma Roberts, and Hilary Swank.

Cinematography: Darran Tiernan

Edited by: Jane Rizzo

Music by: Nathan Barr

Production companies: Blumhouse Productions and White Rabbit Productions

Distributed by: Universal Pictures

Release date: March 13, 2020

Running time: 90 minutes