Like Stieg Larsson’s “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo,” Gillian Flynn’s “Gone Girl” and Paula Hawkins’ “The Girl on the Train,” Jessica Knoll’s “Luckiest Girl Alive” is a “Girl”-titled psychological thriller that became a pop culture sensation and was destined for adaptation — in the case of the latter, a Netflix film with Knoll writing the screenplay, Mike Barker (“The Sandman,” “The Handmaid’s Tale”) directing and Mila Kunis delivering one of the most impactful performances of her fine film career.
This is a tough and sometimes grim and difficult-to-watch effort, with a number of brutally intense scenes depicting rape and gun violence. (If that type of material hits you in a way that will leave a lasting impact, this is not the movie for you.) “Luckiest Girl Alive” is set in 2015 (the year the novel was published), and the first time we see Kunis’ Ani, she’s shopping for upscale cutlery in Manhattan with her fiancé Luke (Finn Wittrock) — and when the condescending salesman asks the “petite” Ani to hold a pair of knives in her hands to get a feel for the weight, she looks down and sees the knives covered in blood, and Luke down on the floor.
Ani is plagued by these types of insta-delusions and flashbacks, even as the outside world thinks of her as the luckiest girl alive, what with her upcoming marriage to the handsome and wealthy and charming Luke, the prospect of a new dream gig as a writer for the New York Times Magazine — and the fact Ani survived a mass shooting at an elite private high school in 1999.
Despite clearly still dealing with PTSD, Ani wants to put the past behind her. But that’s impossible to do, what with her classmate, the paralyzed shooting survivor Dean Barton (Alex Barone), becoming a best-selling author and widely admired political figure who has dedicated his life to campaigning for stricter gun laws. Dean has maintained Ani was an accomplice to the shooters (she was friends with both of them), and now a documentary filmmaker (Dalmar Abuzeid) is hounding Ani so she can tell her side of the story. As we learn in the flashback sequences featuring Chiara Aurelia as teenage Ani, there’s more to the dynamic between Dean and Ani, who is faced with either ignoring the past and moving on (which her fiancé wants her to do) or setting the record straight, even if it might well result in collateral emotional damage on multiple levels.
Kunis is magnificent as Ani, who is smart and funny and edgy and so tightly wound and tormented we fear for her future. The supporting cast, including Jennifer Beals as Ani’s editor, Scoot McNairy as a figure from Ani’s past and Connie Britton as Ani’s domineering mother, is excellent. While the material at times veers close to exploitation, Knoll’s writing and Kunis’ performance ensure this is ultimately a tale of survival and perseverance — of a victim who refuses to let that label define her.
