What was I meant to take away from It Ends With Us?

This article includes mentions of domestic violence, and may be distressing for some readers. Helplines can be found at the close. 

I’ll be honest — I’m not a Colleen Hoover fan. So when I read It Ends With Us, and watched the film adaptation within a 48-hour timeframe, I formed my opinions quite quickly. 

This story is supposedly one centred on domestic violence through an approachable yet feminist-forward lens, exploring the cycles of domestic violence throughout the main character’s life. The book I’d read and film I’d watched, however, were a far cry from this and I found myself walking out of the cinema baffled by how close It Ends With Us felt to a ‘rom-com’. 

From what seemed like an unintended justification of abusive behaviour to huge (and contextually important) plot lines being axed from the film, it was disappointing. But I’ll give credit where it’s due — there was an attempt to represent the realities of a domestic violence situation. Ryle’s characterisation as an unsuspecting villain hiding in plain sight, Lily’s immediate instinct to rationalise the violence and the abuser’s family and friends protecting them seemed to consider real scenarios.  

Lily and Ryle meeting on the rooftop in It Ends With Us, image credit: Sony Pictures

But I have two main issues with the film itself: the first is that the decision to make domestic violence more ‘palatable’ didn’t sit well with me, and the second, why was everyone framing it as a ‘rom-com’?  

It’s always tough to find the right spot to begin picking apart a story, but I’m sure as hell going to try. While the book received a tonne of backlash for romanticising domestic violence and its intensity in portraying those moments, I think the film took one too many steps backward here. Unfortunately, I felt that the abusive storyline piggybacked off its initial romance.

It was confusing to be watching what felt like a watered-down version of the book, which spent way too much time fixated on Lily and Ryle’s whirlwind romance and not enough time journeying through Lily’s experience with a situation she never thought she’d be in.

Unfortunately, Lily literally says word-for-word that she’s “an unreliable narrator” — cue me recoiling in my seat — during their initial meeting, which somewhat discredits anything told from her perspective from that moment on. The intended purpose of this must have been surrounding her perspective of Ryle and rationalisation of the domestic violence, aiming to ‘reveal’ that Ryle’s actually a terrible person later in the film, but it felt that everything she’d said, thought or felt were now redundant. Not a great expectation to be setting that early on.

Lily on the rooftop in It Ends With Us, image credit: Sony Pictures

Ryle is presented as the perfect man with somewhat random but “justifiable” outbursts of anger, an illusion that’s shattered quite late in the film. His work ethic and the real-life implications of his job, his goals and his morals are glazed over, but there is less of a black-and-white approach to his character with the consent-friendly and relatable attributes, so kudos to Justin Baldoni on that. 

What I didn’t like was that there wasn’t a level of nuance to Lily’s experience, especially during her pregnancy. We didn’t get to see inside her thoughts, the back and forth of loving and hating Ryle, and working through the childhood trauma that it brought to the forefront. 

As for that “it ends with us” scene, Ryle seemed borderline unapologetic, and Lily’s prompting fell short, so it didn’t hit the way that I thought it would. And while it was a good director’s decision to cut Ryle out of Lily’s life post-divorce, I really had to push aside my immediate thoughts and just go along with the film for that ending.

Lily and Ryle in It Ends With Us, image credit: Sony Pictures

The dynamic between Lily and her mother also wasn’t what I was expecting. That final conversation at Lily’s father’s tombstone… I have lots of feelings about it. Instead of thanking Lily for her speech at her father’s funeral (or lack thereof) as she does in the book, her mother opts to make peace with the situation, which felt like an easy way to package the discussion neatly. It kind of ruins Lily’s progress with her mother, which sucks because the point, at least book-wise, was to forge a new path and break generational cycles.

And don’t get me started on the Atlas plotline. It went from a reflection on Lily’s past and navigating that in adulthood to being misinterpreted as flat-out emotional cheating. It was a hard watch, especially with Lily being so wrapped up in Atlas’ presence that she seemed to forget about her husband? There was no marriage salvaging happening here, and it almost felt like a justification for Ryle’s concerns, and therefore his actions, which I sure hope wasn’t the intention. 

Lily and Atlas in It Ends With Us, image credit: Sony Pictures

So then what exactly was I meant to take away from the film? Yes, it brought into question what constitutes domestic violence but it didn’t feel particularly helpful. I wasn’t moved by the film, unless I felt like recoiling in my seat due to the unbearable amounts of cringe, and hearing the commentary around its “incredible romance” and how ‘adorable’ the film was as they left the cinema made me feel like people were missing the point entirely. Instead, I fled feeling confused. 

And if I was feeling lost after watching It Ends With Us, I’m truly concerned about what bright-eyed kids trotting off to the cinema are going to take away with them when the credits roll. 

If this has raised any issues for you, or if you just feel like you need to speak to someone, please call 1800 RESPECT (1800 737 732) – the national sexual assault, domestic and family violence counselling service. You can also call safe steps 24/7 Family Violence Response Line on 1800 015 188 or visit www.safesteps.org.au for further information.

Image credit: Sony Pictures and Punkee.