The Scariest Thing About Promising Young Woman

The recent film, Promising Young Woman, is a candy coated feminist revenge fantasy of sorts. If you haven’t seen the oscar nominated film yet, here is a link to the full trailer. The film follows the protagonist, Cassie, and her journey to avenge her best friend who was driven to suicide after being sexually assaulted. While the movie deserves a watch and a complete analysis in its own right, I want to talk about the part that hits the hardest in the face of how women live their lives in reality. Spoilers ahead. 

Throughout the film, we see Cassie track down every single person that is a part of the system that so easily dismissed her friend. At every turn Cassie is cool, calculated, and strong. She puts herself in numerous situations that could have gone sideways but always seems in control and comes out on top each time. At no point are we led to believe Cassie is ever in real danger, and despite being motivated to avenge violence against her friend, almost no violence is shown in the film at all until nearly the end. 

The climax of the film features Cassie finally getting the opportunity to confront her friend’s attacker. She tricks her way into his bachelor party dressed as a stripper, and sets herself up to give him a private lap dance which allows her to isolate him and to handcuff him to a bed frame. Only after he is restrained does she reveal her identity and her true plans for him. He begins to panic, pulling on his restraints. He manages to free one hand which he then uses to suffocate Cassie to death.

When I watched this scene play out the first time, I initially felt shocked, but then I felt almost eager. It was like watching the penultimate scene in an action movie where the hero gets beat down right before rising up once more to defeat the villain once and for all. 

I waited for Cassie to get up. I waited too long. I thought she had been pretending and this was all part of her plan - but she never gets up and we never see her face again. You can watch the movie to find out the rest, but this is the scene that has stuck with me the most. 

At first glance, this scene holds so much weight because it was the first time we see any violence at all, and the scene itself is uncomfortable to watch. There are no cuts, to strategic b-roll with the sounds over it, simply two and a half minutes of a man smothering a woman with a pillow until she is no longer breathing. 

But after processing it, I realized the most startling thing about it was how much I identified with Cassie. She is presented to us for nearly the whole movie as too smart, and too in control for something like this to happen to her. She repeatedly seeks dangerous situations with men as part of her plot, but never for one second are we led to doubt that she will be the victor in each case - she’s the invincible opposite to her sweet friend who was assaulted. So when she loses in the final act, it is a brutal reminder to women that no matter how strong you are - if he wanted to hurt you, he could.

It was a bitter ending to swallow because, throughout the film, I continuously compared myself to Cassie. I also like to portray that I am strong, and I do exercise control, and I do pay attention to my situations. I like to think of myself as someone who would be able to escape or do something if I found myself in her shoes. But this scene reminded me of that small part of myself that knows it’s not true. The part of myself that knows if a man wanted to hurt me, that he could. 

To be quite clear, I’m not saying men would hurt me or anyone else - I’m saying they could. In fact, I don’t believe most men have the capacity to kill or assault someone, but the possibility is there, and that’s enough to feed that little place  of fear for women. 

Although this fear is small, it is powerful. I have been alone with a man many times in my life and I am lucky enough to report that all of them have respected my boundaries and I have never had to face that violence head on. However, no matter how safe I feel, that little piece of fear still dictates many of my actions. 

Let’s say I like a guy on the first date and I decide to go back to his place with him. That little piece of fear dictates that I do the following - I text no less than two people the address of where I’m going, the guy’s name/appearance, and what time they should expect to hear from me in the morning before they should panic. It dictates that upon entering his apartment, I immediately take stock of where he keeps anything I could potentially use as a weapon. It dictates that I cannot, under any circumstances, let my phone die even if it means buying a charger at a 7/11 because my phone is my lifeline. It dictates that I go to the bathroom, look myself in the mirror, take some deep breaths, and rehearse what I would do if things got messy.

I’ve never actually needed any of these safeguards. I, too, have been in potentially dangerous situations but have always come out unscathed. But my mistake is thinking that safety is completely of my own making. It’s the thought that I came out ok because I was in control the whole time. But I’m not. I play my role, sure, but the man also has a responsibility to keep the situation safe as well. He, too, can majorly influence the outcome of the evening, but until I know him better, I can’t count on that sense of responsibility from him. 

And although I’ve never been in a situation where I thought a man was going to hurt me, I have enough friends and know enough women who have, that I know it’s a lot closer than I’d like to think. The ending of Promising Young Woman was hard for me to watch, not because it depicted a violent scenario, but because it reminded me of my own powerlessness - and that was truly terrifying. 

PC: Joy Lee