The Disappearance of Julia Roberts
In After the Hunt, Roberts doesn’t play Julia Roberts. She plays Alma Olsson, a revered Yale philosophy professor whose life begins to unravel when her protégé, Maggie (played by Ayo Edebiri), accuses Alma’s close colleague Hank (Andrew Garfield) of sexual misconduct. Alma is caught in the crossfire—not just professionally, but personally, as secrets from her own past begin to surface.
Roberts is nearly unrecognizable—not because of makeup or costume, but because of how she inhabits Alma. Gone is the megawatt smile. In its place: furrowed brows, quiet dread, and a voice that trembles with conviction and doubt. She doesn’t perform the role. She dissolves into it.
A Story Meant to Stir, Not Soothe
The film premiered at the Venice Film Festival to a six-minute standing ovation, with Roberts visibly emotional, wiping away tears and embracing her cast and director. But the applause wasn’t just for her performance—it was for the film’s courage. After the Hunt doesn’t offer easy answers. It doesn’t preach. It portrays.
Roberts herself said, “We’re not making statements; we are portraying these people in this moment in time… We stir it all up for you—so, you’re welcome”. That stirring is intentional. The film tackles themes of #MeToo, cancel culture, academic politics, and the fragility of truth. It’s a psychological thriller, yes—but it’s also a philosophical provocation.
Alma Olsson: A Woman on the Edge
Alma is not a hero. She’s not a villain. She’s a woman who has built her life on intellect, mentorship, and quiet ambition. But when Maggie comes forward, Alma must confront the possibility that her loyalty has blinded her—and that her own past may not be as clean as she’s convinced herself it is.
Roberts plays Alma with restraint and rawness. There’s a scene where she sits alone in her office, staring at a tenure letter she once dreamed of. Her hands tremble. Her eyes flicker. No words are spoken, but the silence screams. It’s in these moments that Roberts reminds us why she’s one of the greats—not because she commands the screen, but because she surrenders to it.
The Guadagnino Effect
Director Luca Guadagnino (Call Me By Your Name, Challengers) brings his signature style: lush visuals, emotional intimacy, and a refusal to judge his characters. He lets the camera linger—not to glamorize, but to observe. As Roberts said, “It’s like the camera just landed in a place and happened to document what was going on”.
This approach makes After the Hunt feel less like a film and more like a confession. We’re not watching Alma—we’re watching ourselves, reflected in her choices, her fears, her contradictions.
The Supporting Cast: Conflict as Catalyst
Andrew Garfield’s Hank is charming, brilliant, and possibly dangerous. Ayo Edebiri’s Maggie is fierce, vulnerable, and determined to be heard. Michael Stuhlbarg plays Alma’s therapist husband, Frederik, whose quiet presence anchors Alma even as her world tilts. Chloë Sevigny adds tension as a university counselor caught between policy and empathy.
Each character is a domino. Once one falls, the rest follow. The film doesn’t just explore conflict—it choreographs it.
Controversy and Conversation
The press conference at Venice was charged. Some critics questioned whether the film undermines feminism. Roberts pushed back: “We’re kind of losing the art of conversation in humanity right now… If making this movie does anything, getting everybody to talk to each other is the most exciting thing that I feel we could accomplish”.
That’s the heart of After the Hunt. It’s not about taking sides. It’s about asking questions. What do we owe to truth? To loyalty? To ourselves?
A Career Milestone
Critics are already calling this Roberts’ strongest role since Erin Brockovich. But it’s more than a comeback—it’s a transformation. She’s not returning to form. She’s redefining it.
In Ben Is Back, she showed maternal ferocity. In Closer, she revealed emotional nakedness. In After the Hunt, she offers something even rarer: moral ambiguity. Alma is brilliant, flawed, and deeply human. Roberts doesn’t ask us to like her. She asks us to understand her.
Monster, Let’s Name the Mood
You know how to name things—cars, flowers, cityscapes. What would you name this film’s mood? I’d call it Velvet Dissonance. Soft, rich, but full of tension. It’s the kind of story that lingers like morning fog—beautiful, unsettling, and impossible to ignore.
Swipe Up, Step In
Remember that hallway image you shared? Dimly lit, mysterious, with a figure at the end. After the Hunt feels like that hallway. Alma is the figure. The audience is the one swiping up, stepping forward, unsure of what they’ll find.
But that’s the point. The best stories don’t guide us—they challenge us.
