A Vigilante is a 2019 crime drama about a woman who comes to the rescue of abused woman.
The opening salvo of writer and director Sarah Daggar-Nickson‘s powerful A Vigilante begins with a close shot of a woman working a heavy bag, punching with increasing fervor, a fury in her eyes setting a dynamic start to an unnerving movie experience. It’s a chilling start to a film that is often uncompromising in delivery a distressing story of rage and revenge.
Sadie (Olivia Wilde) has a haunted past, a victim of traumatizing domestic violence that has left her deeply scarred (emotionally and physically) and with great loss. Seeking help, she becomes entangled in group therapy, finding others like her, succumbing to a world shadowed with women in hopeless and desperate situations. Unwilling to allow the horror to continue, she takes matters into her own hands, training in self defense and disguise, offering her services to those who can find her, leveling a fierce blow of revenge on her victims with extreme prejudice.
Beginning with Sadie already on the job, aging herself with makeup and arriving at the home of a ‘client,’ she quickly reveals to the husband of the house that she is a threat of unbridled strength and thirst for vengeance. It’s mostly off screen, but the results are not and we recognize that Sadie is powered by a dark force, kindled from something deep inside her core.
From there, the movie jumps from place to place, time to time, where Sadie is seen in session, sunken and pale, listening to the harrowing stories of women trapped in savagery. It then cuts to moments of severe anguish as Sasie writhes in various hotel rooms, weighted by the tragedy of her past. This is of course a dark odyssey where Sadie ventures about answering pleas on her messaging service, though there are others encounters, such as a little boy and his cruel mother.
Either way, this is Wilde’s movie, dressed in all kinds of exaggerated wigs and cosmetics in giving her anonymity as she unleashes a torrent of freedom for those who can’t do it on their own. We most often only see men in positions of submission, bound and bloodied, learning the hard way that there are consequences for what they’ve done. Nickson isn’t exploiting or even celebrating these moments, merely doling them out in quiet retrospect while paired with images of a chaotic Sadie whirling about her dirty hotel rooms in thrashes of cathartic madness, howling at herself in the mirror.
There’s a knee-jerk reaction to think this as some sort of alternative superhero story, but that would be misleading and probably not fair. The film doesn’t position Sadie as such, even as it fits the conventions, this more a morality tale with a vicious bite. It doesn’t hate men but also doesn’t shirk from the fact that some are very bad people. We’re meant to ponder what’s right or wrong, much like Michael Winner‘s controversial 1974 film Death Wish and finding the right answer isn’t easy. That said, there isn’t a larger message beyond eye for an eye, the film rutted a bit as it moves forward on the theme, once we understand Sadie’s motivations, things sort of obvious. Still, this is one heckuva performance from Wilde who sheds much of one’s expectations for a twisted, commanding turn that deserves closer attention.