We all make mistakes and that’s okay. The unexpected in life almost always finds us in fragile circumstances, each with its own weight and measure, in which we are confronted with the best and the worst of ourselves – and it is at this time that we see how much truth is. exists in this person who faces us every day in the mirror, whom we bump into a thousand times a second in the dark retreat of our most unknown, darkest, most vile thoughts. An abjection imposes itself on us and dominates us, although there are never any people who swear that such a sensation is nothing more than assaults of a disturbed mind on emotionally prosaic individuals, incapable of seeing the fundamental depth that makes up all things, especially, obviously, human relationships. These dangerous creatures have been around us since we opened our eyes to the world, and they see no harm in usurping any patrimony, material or otherwise, that we will build. Worse, they are so skilled in all matters that they manage to manipulate the feelings and desires of others that they manage without the slightest effort to make the well-meaning believe that they are entitled to everything, that the universe owes them apologies and reparation for events. unsustainable that they fostered with their selfishness and their pathologically Manichean worldview, who, caught in a misconduct of some importance, are actually being helpless victims of the diabolical envy of some failure.
Unfortunately, everything is not always that simple and every story has two sides – or the corresponding to how many parties are involved. Director Mike Barker extols the character of a mystery that begs to be revealed in “The Very Lucky Girl” (2022), the great asset of Jessica Knoll’s bestselling New York Times novel. The writer herself signs the script, putting into her protagonist’s mouth the annihilating truths that burst into her new life and left a trail of perennial destruction. Exactly as only true tragedies can do.
Ani FaNelli appears to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and Knoll’s pity soon begins to shed light on why. Ani has the world at her feet—money, a fiancé who loves her unconditionally, skyrocketing job prospects, and best of all, unshakable self-esteem—but at the same time her accomplishments are never persuasive enough. . The screenwriter dismantles the aspirations and disdains of the life of her central character without mercy, and Mila Kunis perfectly captures the anguished spirit of this woman. The money comes from being an editor at a major New York newspaper, in which she establishes herself thanks to her talent with words, of course, but also her invaluable ability to adapt to almost any professional adversity using artifices between the childish and the sick, like never saying what he’s thinking (and often saying the exact opposite of what’s on his mind). Barker provides the film with sequences in which Ani, who was called TifAni until not so long ago, demonstrates her insecurity by inventing “serious” guidelines, such as the salary disparity between men and women in the same position, inexplicably threatened by the evidence of having specializing in subjects on less urgent subjects, such as the relationship between playing sports and oral sex. At that moment, the director sees the perfect opportunity to throw the hook and hook the audience for good: Luke Harrison, the husband candidate played by Finn Wittrock, emerges as the ideal lover – sweet, understanding, handsome and full of money -, but somewhat oblivious to what the future woman wants. The scenes in which they appear together, initially romantic, give way to a kind of competition. When Luke mentions the possibility of moving to London, since he’s been offered a job he can’t refuse, she counters by mentioning the offer the New York Times had just given her—there’s clear a bit shameless publicity from the paper this time. point, revived in the final segment — which is suspended throughout the rest of the plot. Not without reason, the plot drifts miserably here, resuming the course with the entry on the scene of Aaron Wickersham, the documentary filmmaker played by Dalmar Abuzeid, interested in finding out the episode riddled with secrets that motivated the change of name of the character of Kunis.
Ani balances herself between the shameful past — and Barker makes a point of constantly waving at a possible heinous crime that that lucky girl would have committed — and the auspicious, but risky present, starting with the very likely rejection of Luke, who you’re sure your fiancée has overcome the misfortune of a dead time. The narrative moves forward and backward, bringing out of the closet a good part of the skeletons that haunt the protagonist to this day, a film within a film in which Chiara Aurelia confirms Kunis’ good performance. The young Ani appears being hunted by her high school classmates during a party, until the reason for her paranoia finally becomes clearer.
Ani’s fortune that the title alludes to is undoubtedly the way she handles the countless self-discoveries she still had to make, unfazed by the reaction of Luke or Connie Britton’s mother, Dina, who had practically auctioned her off. The outcome is the best possible, albeit a bit farcical, for a woman so full of herself.
Movie: A Very Lucky Girl
Direction: Mike Barker