As a species, we are generally fascinated by the concept of criminality – even if we would not personally engage in any malicious acts, and attempt to get by without ever coming across these insidious people, there is something quite enticing about stories of those who cross the moral event horizon and decide to seal their fate through committing heinous crimes. The rise of true crime dramas and documentaries has led to a profitable industry that preys on our instinctual curiosity to see how these stories unfold, and the more unique a case the further we find ourselves drawn to know every small detail, a peculiar quirk of contemporary culture that can’t quite be explained. One of the more intriguing true crime stories is that of Rodney Alcala – any profile of him gives almost identical information, stating that he was a young, handsome man with an aura of intelligence and charisma, and the ability to draw in just about anybody. However, beneath this pleasant exterior lurked a darkness, which was embodied by his brutal murders of several women, with the exact number still being unknown, but estimated to be much more than the seven for which he was convicted. Yet, what makes his story so unique is the fact that he appeared on the classic 1970s game show, The Dating Game, in which his charismatic personality meant that he emerged victorious, winning a date with the bachelorette tasked with choosing from a set of three eligible young men to be a potential partner, with his appearance coming at the height of his murder spree. One of the most fascinating cases of its era, and one that is still the subject of a lot of discussions, Alcala’s Reign of terror has now been adapted into a film, in which Anna Kendrick makes her directorial debut with Woman of the Hour, a dramatization of Alcala’s criminal activities, centred around his appearance on the show. A well-crafted and enthralling true crime drama that manages to tell quite a compelling story, the film presents a different set of perspectives on one of the most notorious serial killers in American history, doing so with sharp precision and an abundance of complex ideas that all factor into its very unique approach to the subject matter.

Unlike other serial killers, whose presence in the public consciousness usually covers a much larger portion of their life and criminal career, most of the cultural cache of Alcala’s story revolves around his appearance on The Dating Game, meaning that any attempt to explore this story would use this as the centrepiece. While crafting the screenplay, Ian McDonald had the challenge of finding a way to stretch this story to fit into a much longer format, since not only is the original episode of the show freely available for those to watch, but it also needed to be told in such a way that wasn’t just a facsimile of the show, but rather an exploration of the circumstances before and after the events, which is actually where some of the most fascinating conversations are found. Working from an already engaging screenplay, Kendrick’s interest in the story was clear from the start, and she crafts a film that contains many different layers – the central plot is based around the taping of the episode, with both flashbacks to Alcala’s previous crimes, as well as a framing device based around the final crime he committed before his initial arrest, creating a film that works with many different timelines. Kendrick certainly had her work cut out for her, especially considering this is her debut – but yet, she proves to have the necessary skill to work with these different sets of events, merging them in such a way that it feels bold and daring, while also not distracting too much from the underlying themes, which are primarily what keeps this story afloat and so thoroughly engaging. The most effective approach to real-life crime stories is usually the simplest – never embellish beyond what is necessary, and choose an angle that has some artistic resonance, rather than just a play-by-play recounting of the events. Anyone can read the true account of Alcala’s crimes and the novelty that someone so insidious was lurking in plain site, but very few could make it so extraordinarily captivating, which is part of what makes Woman of the Hour so incredibly bold and establishes Kendrick as a tremendous filmmaker in her own right.

At a cursory glance, Woman of the Hour does seem like a relatively conventional retelling of true events, with both its style and approach to the narrative being (on the surface) quite predictable, which is exactly what this narrative needed. Alcala’s story is bizarre enough that it didn’t require an abundance of heavy-handed commentary to be effective since the events speak for themselves. Coupled with the unique approach to exploring Alcala’s crimes, the film chooses to focus less on him as a central character, and more on the women who played a part in his story, either as victims or those who helped bring him to justice through merely surviving his violent wrath. This film is not a biographical account of Alcala – if anything, it intentionally keeps the viewer at a distance, both because giving him too much attention as a central character would mean that it runs the risk of humanizing him or giving him a perspective, which he did not deserve, as well as allowing him to be viewed as this enigmatic force of pure evil that represents the malice of men who believe it is their right to manipulate those who they see as inferior. The title is intriguing, since it may seem to refer to the character of Sheryl Bradshaw (the woman who appeared across from Alcala on The Dating Game), but it is expanded to look at all of his victims, and how they were the proverbial “women of the hour”, based on his trend of preying on lonely women and making them feel as if they are the centre of the universe for a very brief time before brutally murdering them. There comes a point in this film where Kendrick makes it clear what she aimed to say with this story, which is that women exist in a world where they are constantly in danger, forced to constantly be peering over their shoulders, hoping that they are not about to become victims. Kendrick’s ability to evoke tension through the simplest of cues is a masterful example of her skill as a director, with this film featuring some genuinely unsettling moments that are intense but never inauthentic. It wasn’t enough to just tell this story, there needed to be an atmosphere of genuine darkness, which the director captures brilliantly.

In addition to directing the film, Kendrick also portrays one of the few women fortunate enough to escape Alcala’s murderous urges, despite fate placing her right in his clutches, from which she was smart enough to retreat as soon as she saw beneath his sickly sweet demeanour. This is a performance that proves Kendrick can easily leave behind her more mannered quirks and embrace a more complex dramatic role, which seems to be a major step forward considering some of her recent performances have made it seem like her career is slightly stagnating. The other major performance in the film is delivered by Daniel Zovatto, who has the daunting task of playing Alcala – and while he bears very little resemblance to the spindly, gaunt serial killer, he nonetheless makes up for the difference in appearance with the strength of his portrayal, which captures the kind of sinister charm that we know defined him as a person, and ultimately allowed him to take advantage of so many women, as well as deceiving those around him that he was this incredible intellectual, rather than a cold-blooded killer. The two don’t share much time on screen together, and the storylines are mostly separate before they begin to intersect in the latter portions. Yet, both leads are excellent and capture the sense of tension present in the story. A strong supporting cast helps fill out the minor roles, giving Woman of the Hour a very unique tone and showing the extent to which Alcala’s malice stretched. Standout performances by Nicolette Robinson and Autumn Best as two women who ultimately played a part in bringing him to justice (although in quite a small but important way) speak to the aforementioned feminist leanings of the film and aid in developing the overall experience into a far more captivating affair than it seems to be at first glance.

Most actors-turned-directors choose something smaller and more personal to be their directorial debut, especially since they know it can be a challenge to get a film made. Kendrick is one of the few who chose something more ambitious, and having this be her first foray into filmmaking on the other side of the camera is fascinating but a welcome surprise. As a whole, Woman of the Hour is a tightly directed, masterful crime drama that avoids too many conventional tropes of the genre, and instead goes in search of something much more profound, which is formed by engaging with this well-known story in such a way that it feels like it is offering an entirely new perspective, rather than limiting itself to only a few minor cues that ultimately don’t leave much of an impression. The performances are strong, with the characterization itself being a marvel, and the intricately woven nature of the narrative, which is told on numerous different layers, adds a sense of unease and intrigue to the proceedings that are difficult to overlook. It may seem like quite a conventional crime drama, and in many ways, it is – but it’s the small deviances from the conventions that make Woman of the Hour so wholeheartedly entertaining and allow it to be unexpectedly quite effective, even at its most predictable. There is a depth to this film that feels genuinely quite surprising, and if nothing else, it will at least prove Kendrick has a very unique style and a great ability to craft something memorable and moving, which is sometimes quite rare for actors deciding to step to the other side of the camera.