I watched After The Hunt as part of a cinema crawl I did with my friends, where we all came out slightly underwhelmed and confused by the film. Luca Guagdanino’s new film is set in the Harvard University philosophy development, where PhD student Maggie (Ayo Edebiri) accuses associate professor Hank (Andrew Garfield) of sexual assault, leading fellow professor Alma (Julia Roberts) on an existential journey of conflicting trusts and power struggle. After The Hunt promises to be an excavation about positionality, moral policing, and cancel culture, but comes short on conveying any coherent message that is reflective of these larger themes. Watching the film felt like drinking an alphabet soup, where audiences are left scooping up random combinations of letters, and trying to put together a succinct message. I was, however, trying to defend After The Hunt on its Rashomon story structure, interesting premise, and holistic view of precisely the aftermath and ripple effects of condemnable behaviour. That is, until I watched Tár, and reflected on the potential of a character-driven story on how moral clarity always corrodes under power and bureaucracy.
Tár is a 2 hour and 30 minutes long exploration of world-renowned conductor Lydia Tár, who resides in Berlin as chief conductor of the Berlin orchestra with her wife and child. Her life begins to unravel when past accusations of sexual misconduct and power abuse resurface, alongside with distrust in her marriage, politics among the music world, and her infatuation with the new cellist. Much like in After The Hunt, Tár and Alma are leading professionals in fields that have historically been dominated by men, where they are paradoxically progressive figures who still have to maintain patriarchal structures of assertiveness and confidence to maintain their position. This volatile position is made clear as cracks start to appear in their facade as symbols of diversity and progression, when it is revealed that they abused their power to reach the height they are at. This in itself is reflective of the patriarchal and status-driven structures that the characters find themselves in, where women are not allowed any mistakes in their route to success, nor are they allowed to misuse their power in ways their male counterparts can be forgiven for.
Although both characters have been hinted at using their femininity and power to seduce their students, Tár comes off as more complex as her character remains consistently cruel, with audiences never fully being given a glimpse into her past life. In After The Hunt, Alma’s confession of having once made a false rape accusation comes off superficial and inserted, and is not very relevant to the main story where she’s accused of being complicit with Hank’s allegations. Tár’s bizarre ending with her banishment from the music world and moving to the Phillipines, selecting a girl that resembles the cellist as her masseuse, and conducting a video game piece demonstrates that Tár has never once let go of her facade despite her falling social status. Tár always used her power to manipulate young women. It’s that these abuses are overlooked and allowed under the power-driven patriarchal structure, where Tár is immediately disposed the moment her power abuse exceeds the people who hold the status quo.
I also find it fascinating that both films starts with a well-constructed lengthy scene where characters deliberately discuss topics of positionality and privilege. Maggie points out the philosophy department has historically been dominated by straight white men and Tár yells at a student for not listening to Bach because of his problematic history. This sets up the tone of the film as one that attempts to dissect the complexity of these topics. While the former diverges into side plots of infidelity and relationships, Tár successfully convinces me, in a way that After The Hunt doesn’t, that the moral superiority attached to being in a powerful position as a minority are mere slogans under personal achievement and reputation. Tár has only weaponized her prestigious status and femininity to add to her personal gain, whether that be guaranteeing the new cellist a solo position or blocking all opportunities for her past student. She is only invoking moral claims and judgement when it suits her interest. Overall, where After The Hunt aims to be cutting edge in its exploration of power and privilege where personal relationships are involved, Tár exceeds it by portraying a character that has been solely driven by personal interest, effectively demonstrating that cancel culture is not a definite line, but is constantly sidestepped and moulded by deliberate personal interests.
“Cate Blanchett” by Gage Skidmore is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.