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It Ends With Us: A Powerful Message Trapped in a Weak Film

 

It Ends With Us


It Ends With Us is, unfortunately, not a good movie. The execution is weak, the pacing uneven, and the emotional payoff often missing. 

While the story aims high, the film never fully reaches the depth it needs. What could have been a gripping, emotionally complex drama ends up feeling shallow and, at times, unintentionally artificial.

Flat Characters and Weak Relationships

One of the film’s biggest problems lies in its characters. They are not particularly interesting, charismatic, or well-developed. Ryle (Justin Baldoni) is a major flaw. 

As a character, he is emotionally flat and offers very little to explain why Lily (Blake Lively) would be so drawn to him. There is no real chemistry or depth to justify such intense involvement.

Blake Lively delivers a committed performance and does what she can with the material she’s given. She brings sincerity and vulnerability to Lily, but even her performance isn’t enough to carry the film.

 The emotional reactions throughout often feel mismatched to the situations, and the characters seem to lack inner complexity. At times, it feels less like watching real people and more like watching figures moved by the plot rather than by genuine thoughts or feelings.

Emotional Gaps and Lack of Realism

Much of the film struggles with realism. The emotions don’t always align with what’s happening on screen, and important moments lack the weight they should carry. 

The characters appear to react without fully processing their circumstances, which makes the story feel unconvincing. There’s a persistent sense that something is missing—depth, reflection, or emotional continuity.

What the Film Gets Right

Despite all this, the film succeeds in portraying one crucial aspect realistically: Lily’s blindness to her own situation. 

Having grown up watching her mother endure abuse, she still allows herself to fall into a similar pattern without fully realizing it. That slow, almost invisible progression is painfully realistic.

Ryle’s behavior is ambiguous, particularly at the beginning, and as a viewer, you may find yourself confused. This confusion feels intentional and mirrors Lily’s internal struggle. It is arguably the film's strongest and most honest element, and, even in a totally different situation, it kind of reminded me of The Girl on the Train.

A Problematic Ending

The final act raises serious concerns. The scene involving the baby feels especially unrealistic. An abuser would likely not react in the way Ryle does, and the situation is resolved far too neatly. 

More troubling is Lily’s apparent lack of reflection on the long-term consequences of her choices. A child ties her permanently to her abuser, yet the film avoids addressing the risks involved.

Her father was not violent toward her—but that does not guarantee Ryle will behave the same way. Is the child at risk? What does this future actually look like? These questions remain largely unanswered, making the ending feel emotionally incomplete and, at times, irresponsible.

A much more realistic choice would be for her to be scared for her daughter's safety, as you can see in Maid (Netflix show, 2021), where it all feels much more real. 

Underdeveloped Side Stories

Several secondary relationships feel rushed or inconsistent. Lily’s relationship with Ryle’s sister (Jenny Slate) suddenly becomes mature and supportive in a way that doesn’t quite fit the character or the situation—especially considering that she is his sister. The shift feels unearned.

The brother’s backstory is another missed opportunity. Once the third sibling is mentioned, the reveal becomes predictable. The explanation offered feels insufficient, and to be truly believable, the film needed more buildup—more presence, more emotional impact, and more visible trauma.

Atlas: The Bright Spot

Atlas (Brandon Sklenar) is, without a doubt, the most successful character in the film. He is gentle, emotionally available, and believable. 

His kindness feels genuine rather than performative, making him easy to love. In many ways, he highlights what the rest of the film lacks: emotional clarity and authenticity.

A Message That Still Matters

Setting aside all external controversies, the film itself simply isn’t strong enough as a story. And yet, its message is powerful. The importance of breaking cycles, the strength required to walk away, and the idea that love is not an excuse for harm are all communicated clearly.

By the end, much like with Lily’s mother (Amy Morton), you feel proud of Lily. And that feeling alone gives the film value.

So yes—I would still say it’s worth watching. Not because it’s a good movie, but because its message is important, and sometimes, that is enough.


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