Olivia Wilde jacks us in to the TradWife Matrix.
If there’s one thing Don’t Worry Darling isn’t, it’s subtle. Olivia Wilde’s sophomore directorial effort bursts onto the screen with the aesthetic confidence of a mid-century modern fever dream. It’s a world so immaculately designed, you could hang it on your wall – that is, if you don’t mind the cracks in the frame. For all its surface gloss and cocktail party charm, there’s an underlying unease lurking just beneath the facade. Unfortunately, the film can’t always decide whether it wants to peel back the layers of its artfully curated nightmare or simply revel in the retro glamour of it all.
The story centres on Alice (Florence Pugh), a housewife living in the picturesque, sun-drenched community of Victory. It’s the sort of place that looks like it could have leapt straight out of a 1950s advertisement for marital bliss: shiny cars, tailored suits, and perfectly coiffed hair. Her husband, Jack (Harry Styles), works for the mysterious Victory Project, a company headed by the enigmatic Frank (Chris Pine), while Alice spends her days cooking, cleaning, and lounging by the pool with the other wives. It’s a dream existence – or, at least, it should be. But Alice begins to suspect that not everything is as it seems, and the cracks in her perfect life begin to show.
Let’s get one thing out of the way: Florence Pugh is the film’s undeniable MVP. She throws herself into Alice with the kind of raw intensity that makes her unravelling feel deeply visceral, even when the script doesn’t always match her energy. Pugh can communicate more with a glance than most actors can with an entire monologue, and she elevates the film’s weaker moments through sheer force of performance. Opposite her, Harry Styles tries his best as Jack but struggles to hold his own, particularly in scenes requiring emotional depth. He’s serviceable, but when paired with an actor of Pugh’s calibre, “serviceable” feels like a missed opportunity.
Chris Pine, however, is having an absolute ball as Frank, the charismatic and sinister architect of Victory. There’s a gleeful menace in his performance, a smirk lurking behind every line delivery, and his scenes with Pugh crackle with tension. Olivia Wilde herself makes a strong impression as Bunny, a fellow housewife whose sharp wit and biting humour provide a welcome counterpoint to the Stepford-esque vibe of the community.
Where Don’t Worry Darling excels is in its visual and auditory design. The film is a sensory feast, drenched in warm, saturated colours and punctuated by a haunting score that ratchets up the tension. Every frame is meticulously composed, and the costumes and production design practically scream opulence. But while the aesthetics are undeniably striking, they often feel like a distraction from the story rather than a complement to it. It’s as if the film is so enamoured with its own beauty that it forgets to fully commit to its deeper thematic ambitions.
And there are ambitions here, make no mistake. The script, penned by Katie Silberman, builds on themes of bodily autonomy, patriarchy, and the darker aspects of a utopia designed to service only some of its inhabitants. But these ideas often feel undercooked, gesturing toward profundity without ever quite reaching it. The film’s third act, in particular, is where things begin to unravel. Plot twists are telegraphed so far in advance that they land with a dull thud, and the big revelations are more likely to elicit shrugs than gasps. The climax feels rushed and unsatisfying, leaving too many questions unanswered and too many threads dangling.
There’s also the unavoidable shadow of the film’s off-screen drama, which hung over its release like a particularly unflattering tabloid headline. Reports of tension between cast and crew, coupled with widely circulated but disputed controversies, added to the film’s notoriety. While some claims were later debunked, including the rumoured on-set chaos and an incident involving Harry Styles and Chris Pine, the public spectacle surrounding the production inevitably coloured the viewing experience. It’s hard not to feel like the tension behind the scenes has seeped into the film itself, adding an extra layer of friction that complicates, rather than complements, the narrative.
Don’t Worry Darling is a film that shoots for the stars but only gets halfway there. It’s a stylish and ambitious effort that showcases Olivia Wilde’s directorial eye and Florence Pugh’s magnetic talent, but it’s let down by a script that doesn’t fully capitalise on its potential. There’s an intriguing story buried somewhere in the haze of martinis and manicured lawns, but the film is too enamoured with its own reflection to dig deep enough to find it. Like the illusory perfection of Victory itself, it’s all very pretty to look at – but the fractures are impossible to ignore.
