In “It Ends with Us,” the ugliness of domestic violence is mixed with the glitz of a Hollywood love story. It’s an uneven mix, but potentially a successful one: This is the first film adaptation of a novel by Colleen Hoover, the self-made publishing phenomenon who seems to churn out bestsellers the way you or I might scribble a shopping list. For Hoover’s fan base – known as the CoHort – “It Ends with Us” could be the perfect blend of fantasy and reality.
Blake Lively plays Lily Bloom, who, despite her name, is no wallflower. After escaping her abusive home, Lily has become a confident, well-dressed Bostonian who runs—what else?—a flower shop. It’s such a charming nouveau boutique that dashing fashionista Allysa (Jenny Slate) just has to work there, even though she’s married to a tech millionaire (Hasan Minhaj). So far, so fabulous.
And there’s more: One night on the rooftop of a high-rise, Lily meets Ryle, a buff neurosurgeon played by the film’s director, Justin Baldoni. They can’t help but marvel at their own absurdity: Lily bursts into laughter when she learns of Ryle’s high-ranking profession, while he marvels at her incredibly symbolic name. After realizing that this is literary fiction, they start making out. Did I mention it’s his rooftop above his penthouse? (The screenplay is by Christy Hall.)
Reality catches up with us when we begin to suspect – long before Lily does – that Ryle is not only assertive but also abusive, the result of a dark childhood trauma. Baldoni handles this slow realization quite cleverly, staging events first from Lily’s self-deluded perspective and only later revealing the truth. As Lily explains her wounds and covers her black eyes, she refuses to see that she is becoming her own mother (Amy Morton).
There’s a certain depth to this material. Hoover himself grew up in an abusive home, and Baldoni (who directed the effective 2019 howler “Five Feet Apart”) handles the subject matter with care. But “It Ends with Us” isn’t what you’d call social realism. Lily’s high school love, a homeless boy named Atlas, suddenly resurfaces as the scruffy-sexy owner of a wildly successful restaurant. (He’s played by a hunky Brandon Sklenar from TV’s “1923.”) Now our heroine is torn between two lovers – a bad boy and a good guy, both dream types – much like a certain vampire-obsessed teen and a bondage-interested virgin before her.
Despite her fragile beauty, Lively (a co-producer) gives Lily a backbone, a voice, and two legs. But what about the white knight in the expensive suede jacket? Given the choice between real life and a vague fantasy, this film invariably favors the latter.
