Her POV: ‘Woman of the Hour’ frames skepticism as a silent killer of women 

In her column “Her POV,” Blyss Cleveland reviews classic and contemporary films directed by women.

Content warning: This article contains references to sexual violence. 

Despite the greater awareness of violence against women in the post #MeToo era, most preventative measures target potential victims instead of would-be perpetrators. It is a sign of positive societal change that there are more supportive services for survivors. But we exist in a world where many victims are still met with disbelief. 

Anna Kendrick’s directorial debut, “Woman of the Hour,” successfully frames skepticism as a tool that aids and abets perpetrators of gender-based violence. The film is based on the true story of sex offender and serial killer Rodney Alcala’s appearance as a contestant on a 1978 episode of “The Dating Game.” Kendrick also stars in the film as Sheryl, a fictional version of Cheryl Bradshaw, the woman whose paths crossed with Rodney (Daniel Zovatto) when she served as the bachelorette on the same episode. 

As I was watching the film, I wondered why Alcala was bold enough to appear on a popular show. Learning that he had been on a killing spree since 1968 explained why he felt empowered to up the ante. 

The bulk of the action in “Woman of the Hour” occurs when the infamous episode is taped. Sheryl is a hard-working actress who is navigating the unfairness of show business — an arena where the effort one puts in does not always lead to proportionate results in the form of booking jobs to help her afford rent. 

In an early scene, two male casting directors disparage her appearance during an audition before asking her if she’s comfortable with onscreen nudity — this is a test of how much disrespect she’s willing to take. She ultimately fails to secure the role when she decides to set boundaries. When Sheryl’s manager books her appearance on “The Dating Game” she reluctantly agrees under the auspices of getting “exposure” and “being seen.” 

Sheryl’s experience of being disrespected at an audition was drawn from a similar scenario that happened to Kendrick when she was trying to break into the industry. 

Rodney’s trajectory toward his stint as a contestant mirrors the theme of having one’s looks appraised. He is a photographer for the Los Angeles Times and his camera is the primary tool in his arsenal to charm his victims. Flashbacks and flashforwards create and maintain tension as we learn the geographic reach of his killing spree. Because Alcala is established as the villain from the outset, Zovatto is tasked with using unctuous charisma to get women to let their guards down. He expertly plays a nice guy, veiling his meanness until the mask slips. 

Kendrick’s directing treats the violence with great care. Quick cuts of the main action are interspersed with shots of Rodney’s brutality happening from a distance — through a car window, skylight and just outside of the frame. 

The film depicts other men’s casual cruelty as another phenomenon that leaves women vulnerable to people like Rodney. In addition to the scene with the casting directors, the host of this version of “The Dating Game,” Ed Burke (Tony Hale), pressures Sheryl into being a good sport while the contestants make brutish jokes. During a break from filming, a makeup artist who has worked on the show since 1968 imparts some wisdom to Sheryl as she touches up her makeup. She tells Sheryl that she’s playing the game well because the real dating game is trying to vet a man for his capacity for harm.

Sheryl’s instincts are sharp, but Rodney exploits the fact that he’s being graded compared to two other bachelors who are not as well-versed in hiding their intentions.

The film treads carefully to avoid gratuitous violence, but there is one misstep with the character, Laura (Nicolette Robinson) — a Black female audience member who is present at the taping and recognizes Alcala as the culprit who raped and murdered her friend. However, no one takes Laura’s concerns seriously when she tries to alert the authorities. In an interview with “Rolling Stone,” Anna Kendrick explained that Laura represents the numerous individuals who tried to alert the authorities about Alcala but were ignored. Reducing the chorus of voices to a sole source is an artistic choice that undercuts the actual history.  

Additionally, colorblind casting introduces another problem to the narrative. Black women are currently treated as less believable by the criminal justice system when they are victims of sexual assault or rape. It is disappointing, but no surprise that a Black woman was not regarded as a credible bystander in 1978.

Despite the thematic depth of the film, the constant shifts in the timeline create pacing issues in the latter half of the film. However, the payoff is worth it insofar as one of the women outwits Rodney — a rare moment of justice for a film about a prolific serial killer. 

“Woman of the Hour” is a triumphant directorial debut. Kendrick’s fresh take on this story centers the victims of Alcala’s crimes. She avoids the temptation to center her character arc at the expense of the broader story, a refreshing choice that allows others to take the spotlight in her own movie.

The true crime genre has exploded in popularity in recent years and consumers of the genre report it “makes people more vigilant and safety-conscious.” If only there was a form of media that did the same for perpetrators.

Editor’s Note: This article is a review and includes subjective thoughts, opinions and critiques.

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