It Ends with Us (2024)

The film It Ends with Us, adapted from Colleen Hoover's bestseller, arrives as a glossy romantic drama that treats domestic abuse as a backdrop for personal transformation. Blake Lively plays Lily Bloom, a florist whose relationship with a charming neurosurgeon, Ryle Kincaid, descends into violence, prompting her to break a generational cycle. The narrative hinges on her agency, a choice to leave for the sake of her daughter, which gives the film a mild feminist pulse. It is a survival story, told with earnest performances and a soundtrack of pop hits, but it never aspires to be a polemic. The abuse is framed as a private tragedy, not a social epidemic.

The film's cultural awareness extends little beyond that central arc. The cast includes Hasan Minhaj and Jenny Slate in supporting roles, but their presence is incidental, not a statement. There are no LGBTQ characters, no engagement with racial identity, no environmental concerns, no critique of wealth or class. The characters are affluent professionals, and the florist shop is a dream, not an economic argument. Body positivity and neurodivergence are absent; Ryle's rage stems from childhood trauma, not a neurological condition. History is not revised, because there is no history to revise. The film's message about breaking the cycle of abuse is clear, but it is delivered through emotional beats and a closing dedication, not through sermonizing.

What remains is a mainstream melodrama that wants to have it both ways: to address a serious issue while remaining a consumable romance. It succeeds commercially, and it may resonate with viewers who find catharsis in its tearful resolution. But as a cultural artifact, it is cautious, avoiding the messier intersections that might alienate its core audience. It is a film about a woman's strength, which is admirable, and a film about little else, which is telling. The result is a work of modest progressive sensibilities, careful not to upset the floral arrangements.