Blake Lively Shines in Glossy Adaptation of ‘It Ends with Us’

Arriving as a counter-programming to her husband’s No 1 Marvel skit, Deadpool & Wolverine, Blake Lively’s glossy and often rather graceful romantic drama It Ends with Us seeks to appeal to a powerful and vocal fanbase. This adaptation of Colleen Hoover’s bestseller is trying to connect with two distinct groups, and it’s hard not to notice.

Based on Hoover’s self-published book, which gained popularity via BookTok and pandemic-era escapist reading, It Ends with Us has sold over 20 million copies worldwide. Hoover, fondly called CoHo, has a dedicated female fanbase known as the CoHort. The feverish following even extends to branded merch like press-on nails, quote-covered sweatshirts, and character-inspired earrings. Recognizing the book’s popularity, rights for an adaptation were eagerly snapped up, aiming to attract a similar audience like Fifty Shades. Interestingly, the film also targets another influential and financially potent fanbase: the Swifties.

Led by Lively, one of Taylor Swift’s most visible friends, the movie was announced with a trailer that featured one of Swift’s songs. The trailer includes enough nods to Swift’s style, from long hair and lumberjack shirts to fall colors and a prominently featured song, making it feel almost like officially licensed fan fiction. This well-crafted synergy and promotional strategy might make It Ends with Us a major late summer smash. Yet, beneath these strategic moves lies a surprisingly warm and moving homage to classic women’s films from the 1940s and 50s, as well as the slick, female-led studio fare from the 90s.

The film features a florist named Lily Blossom Bloom, a name that might incite initial skepticism. However, Christy Hall’s script, an adaptation from her work on Daddio, brings a much-needed self-awareness, akin to the approach taken in Fifty Shades of Grey’s loose adaptations by Kelly Marcel and Patrick Marber. Balancing the seriousness of the source material with a broader audience’s potential skepticism and cynicism, Hall succeeds in making the story engaging enough to avoid the pitfalls seen in other adaptations.

Lively’s character, Bloom, deals with the recent death of an abusive father, channeling her emotions into opening a flower shop—a lifelong dream. Upon meeting Ryle Kincaid, a commitment-phobic neurosurgeon played by Justin Baldoni (who also directs), she ridicules his name before eventually falling for him. Their romantic barriers begin to crumble, but a chance reunion with her childhood sweetheart, Atlas (Brandon Sklenar), stirs memories of a past she thought she’d left behind and brings to light a darker present.

While the plot contains familiar soap opera tropes, the film’s maturity in handling sensitive topics like abuse offers a fresh perspective. The story avoids many expected clichés and presents the twists in a more nuanced way. Baldoni’s grand direction makes the film’s $25 million budget look twice as large, with impeccably lit scenes and stylish outfits adorning a cast of attractive individuals living equally attractive lives. Despite the heightened world, Hall’s rooted and believable dialogue ensures the emotional impact remains authentic and readily felt.

With its similarities to 2015’s Age of Adaline, another high-concept film loved by critics, Lively seems intent on revisiting a melodramatic style that has been missing from cinema. Her warm and intuitive performance pairs well with her male co-stars’ and even with her best friend, played by a charming Jenny Slate.

Though the film’s lessons on self-acceptance, self-love, and self-worth might seem somewhat clichéd, and the darker elements could perhaps delve a bit deeper, It Ends with Us puts heart at the forefront. It’s a film filled with massive, sometimes unsubtle, emotional beats, but these moments contribute to its effectively compelling sweep.