The 70s: bell bottoms, disco and a serial killer audacious enough to participate in a televised dating game. “Woman of the Hour”, Anna Kendrick’s directorial debut, tells the dirty but strange real-life story of the “Dating Game Killer”. Her film successfully embodies a harsh examination of misogyny and the dangers women face every day.

Sheryl Bradshaw (Kendrick), a contestant on “The Dating Game,” chooses one of America’s most notorious serial killers as the winning bachelor. Convicted of murdering seven women and girls, Rodney Alcala (Daniel Zovatto) managed to evade capture for years – although some authorities believe the actual toll was as high as 130 murders; That’s partly because of what “Woman of the Day” chillingly showed: society has a tendency to ignore women’s reports, even today.

One of the clearest examples of this uncompromising misogyny comes through the series’ focus on Laura (Nicolette Robinson), who knows Alcala but instead faces near-constant challenges, from the police to her own boyfriend. It warns society about the dangers of the charismatic looking man on the screens. Through misogyny, farting, and a complete disregard for her distress, Laura’s story comes to a realistic end as she is slammed door to door in her face, ultimately preventing Alcala from contributing to her arrest.

The first-time director’s commentary on sexism is by no means limited to this powerful secondary plot. Choosing a serial killer to accompany her on a romantic getaway becomes just one of the many challenges Sheryl faces throughout the film. From her unsuccessful job search to her intrusive neighbor, nearly every aspect of the aspiring actress’ life is affected by harsh gender discrimination.

“Woman of the Hour” avoids getting lost in the powerful surge in true crime retellings by consistently shedding light on both the struggles of women in the ’70s and the almost persistent sense of danger that many women experienced. As a director, Kendrick moves away from making money off the real-life pain of victims by deciding to donate all of his profits from the film to anti-sexual violence charities.

Kendrick’s unique approach to suspense proves that “Woman of the Day” should stand out from other true crime thrillers as she chooses to pay more attention to subtle moments rather than emphasizing blood and gore. This includes the devastating realization that both the audience and the film’s first victim, Sarah (Christine Thornton), are in the presence of someone who wants to harm her and that almost nothing can be done to prevent it. In a prolonged close-up of Thornton’s face, the viewer sees the drastic shift from a sense of security to terror, with only a slight change in his expression.

These disturbing scenes are driven home without the aid of any bells and whistles (unrealistic visual effects or spooky music) and arguably create better tension than when replaced by more violent, drawn-out murder scenes. Beyond respecting the victims by not depicting their deaths simply for entertainment value, the film’s lack of pretension allows viewers to forget the barrier between reality and fiction and dive into the raw scenery. They can only respond to the threats and fear faced by the victims as if they were alive themselves.

Compact storytelling and dialogue allow “The Woman of the Hour” to have a running time of one hour and 35 minutes; It’s a miracle in this age of overly long movies. But this brevity may come at a cost. Although Sheryl’s part of the film is easily the most recognizable – as Alcala’s name reflects – ultimately Alcala’s arrest was the emotional intelligence and courage of a young fugitive, represented in the film as Amy (Autumn’s Best). But because she’s such an important part of this story in real life and in “Woman’s Woman,” Amy has little to no backstory and character development in the movie compared to the weight she carries.

At the end of the movie, Alcala is arrested. But that wasn’t the end of the real story. The “Dating Show Killer” was later released on bail and tragically murdered two more women during his time out of bars. Amy’s real-life counterpart, Monique Hoyt, returned to court to seize Alcala’s last chance at an acquittal to – as the prosecutor put it – “put the nail in Rodney’s coffin.” Transcribing this information into the text in the film’s closing minutes allows Sheryl’s story to remain the most prominent throughout the film, but Hoyt’s contributions and bravery come at a detriment.

One of Kendrick’s strengths is his use of seamless transitions, which are in line with the contrast that is always present throughout the film: from past to present, from seemingly normal to downright sociopathic, to safe on the brink of death. Where Alcala’s charismatic exterior is able to persuade millions, including Sheryl, to believe in his game, these sharp transitions and Zovatto’s unforgettable performance characterize how even the most unstable killers can hide their dark underbelly.

Refusing to glorify Alcala or dramatize any moments for entertainment value, Kendrick’s refreshing take on this ’70s true crime case, focusing on the victims rather than the killer, does the story justice. He deserved his first directorial success with the movie “The Woman’s Woman” and we hope it will open the door to other projects in the future.