Flirtation Turns to Abuse in Softened Film Adaptation ‘It Ends With Us’

To understand the new Blake Lively-starring romantic melodrama “It Ends With Us,” one must consider the current landscape of the publishing industry, dominated by female authors and readers. This dynamic explains the film’s existence, serving an often-overlooked audience in today’s film market while boasting significant name recognition.

The movie “It Ends With Us,” adapted for the screen by Christy Hall, is based on the hugely successful 2016 novel by Colleen Hoover. Hoover began by self-publishing her books, which gained such popularity on Kindle Unlimited that she reached the New York Times bestseller list before being signed by Atria Books, a division of Simon & Schuster.

“It Ends With Us” is a deeply personal story for Hoover, reflecting her family experiences and focusing on a woman named Lily, portrayed by Lively. The narrative revolves around overcoming a cycle of domestic abuse, inspired by experiences witnessed in her parents’ marriage and her own toxic relationship.

Lily Bloom, the protagonist, is a young woman living in Boston with ambitions of opening her own flower shop, aptly named “Lily Bloom’s.” The film begins at her father’s funeral, where Lily struggles to recall even a few positive traits about him. While wrestling with her complex emotions on a rooftop patio, she encounters Ryle, a charming but temperamental neurosurgeon played by Justin Baldoni.

Months later, they reunite and start a relationship. Complicating matters further is an unexpected run-in with Lily’s first love, Atlas, portrayed by Brandon Sklenar, a talented chef who owns a local restaurant. Ryle’s escalating jealousy toward Atlas intensifies the volatility of his relationship with Lily, leading to violent and injurious encounters.

Although Hoover’s novel has limitations, including a juvenile writing style and occasionally cringeworthy prose, it’s unflinchingly clear about the realities of intimate-partner violence. In the book, Lily is in her early twenties and often displays irritating immaturity, but she remains aware of her relationship’s dynamics. Contrarily, the film presents Lily as older and cooler, with much sharper and funnier dialogue written by Hall.

However, in the film, Lily appears delusional about her relationship for an extended period, blurring the lines of abuse to a frustrating degree. This portrayal essentially robs her of agency and glosses over some of Ryle’s obvious manipulative tactics. Of particular note is that Baldoni, who plays the abusive Ryle, also directed the film. The narrative intentionally conceals Ryle’s true nature, opting for a late revelation in the film, differing from Hoover’s original telling.

The decision to gradually unveil Ryle’s malevolence might have stemmed from a desire to keep audiences (unfamiliar with the book) engaged without turning against his character too soon. Additionally, certain changes alleviate Ryle of his darker actions. While necessary, these changes in the adaptation process result in a more mature and intelligent Lily appearing helpless, complicit, and confused—troubling for such a serious topic.

Baldoni’s approach to bringing Hoover’s world to life is to create a romantic escapist fantasy typical of the genre. The film features elaborate costume and set designs, luxurious interiors, a perpetually snowless Boston, and montages of courtship and seduction set to contemporary indie ballads. This aesthetic creates a world that feels somewhat detached from reality, which, given the genre, is not inherently problematic. However, the film must also confront harsh realities, and softening Lily’s trauma undermines the raw truths that Hoover’s book tapped into, resonating with a large female readership craving such stories.

“It Ends With Us” continues the tradition of “women’s pictures,” a staple of Hollywood film production in the 1940s. A star like Bette Davis could have headlined a version of this story some 80 years ago. Despite its lineage, this adaptation fails to deliver the stark reality these films traditionally convey, resulting in a muddled adaptation that remains simultaneously too close and too far from its source material.

Source: Los Angeles Times