Gianna Hayes ’26
You might have noticed a recent trend in movies and television within the past two or three years. It might make you nauseous, it might fascinate you: cannibalism. Perhaps you watched “Bones and All,” or binged “Yellowjackets.” Or you may have been like me, mindlessly scrolling through Hulu this summer looking for a movie to put on in the background and found “Fresh” (2022). What followed was the best hour and 57 minutes of movie watching I’ve spent in a while. Now, I realize that it may sound odd to say that I thoroughly enjoyed a movie about cannibalism, but the English major inside of me is shouting “cannibalism as a metaphor for love!” (and also “let me out!”). If you’re also a Pinterest enjoyer you may also have seen the screenshotted quotes from [insert famous poet here] using said metaphor. At first, I didn’t get it. Then I watched “Fresh.”
“Fresh” begins with a painful first date scene wherein our protagonist, Noa (Daisy Edgar-Jones), meets up with a stereotypical hipster who she met on a dating app. All too relatable. Talking with her best friend, Mollie (JoJo Gibbs), Noa reveals just how frustrated she is with her love life, a sentiment frequently echoed today as observed in The Bumble Scandal of 2024. People are tired of dating apps — a Forbes Health article from July 16 2024 reported that 79% of Gen Z are suffering from dating app burnout. Dr. Rufus Spann, a certified sex therapist, offered his two cents in the article, saying “Over time, the unfortunate misgivings of being on a dating app can cause someone to lose hope in the dating process and finding the right person.” “Fresh” communicates this theme right off the bat, which is why a chance encounter in the grocery store with the charming Steve (Sebastian Stan) is a pleasant surprise to Noa. The two hit it off and dive right into a relationship. Steve invites her to a weekend getaway, but things get weird when they arrive at his beautiful modern home in the middle of nowhere. After being drugged, Noa wakes up in a cell with Steve standing over her, explaining that he is a purveyor of human meat, and that she will slowly be eaten and sold to the 1%. Through the rest of the movie Noa bonds with other women in the adjacent cells, until her careful manipulation of Steve finally presents her with an opportunity to escape.
One of my favorite things about this movie, and one of its most sickening moments, is the act that Noa has to put on in order to survive and gain Steve’s trust. She feigns interest in human meat, and even eats it, only to throw it all up later. Daisy Edgar-Jones’ acting is superb, and makes you wonder: what would you do in that situation? It resonates with the viewer in a visceral way, a way that is all too familiar as an AFAB, femme-presenting person. We put on an act in order to survive, feigning interest just to make it through a date until we get back to the safety of our home, putting on an act to appease men for our own security. One of the most gratifying scenes is near the end, during a fantastically directed and produced surrealist moment: Noa and Steve are ‘on a date’ still in his modern dungeon home in the woods, dancing along to “Le Jardin” by La Femme, and the two are about to have sex when Noa bites off Steve’s erm…junk. The movie had me on my toes the entire time, thinking of ways Noa could escape or fight back, so when I watched this scene, I was cheering her on in my room at 2 in the morning.
“Fresh” is largely about the fears of modern dating and sex trafficking, but I think an overlooked point of the movie is the sense of support the women have for each other. It takes a team effort to overpower and kill Steve (and his complicit wife) and they quite literally have to support one another as all three surviving women suffer some sort of impairment due to Steve’s industry. This movie is about sisterhood. Steve’s wife, Ann (Charlotte Le Bon), is revealed to have a prosthetic leg in a gut-wrenching scene about an hour into the movie. Steve’s business home in the middle of the woods is completely divorced from his life of suburban bliss with his wife and two kids; Ann more largely represents the idealized wife/stay-at-home mom who supports her husband in any way, including giving a portion of her right leg. We see how Steve is too tired to spend time with her, too caught up in his job and later falling in love with Noa. We could label Ann as ‘not a girls’ girl,’ though I prefer a more nuanced interpretation. Ann is jealous and trying to cling onto the relationship that started off with her in captivity. But she is still trapped. It is the only way forward, in her mind. It is not Ann that we must fight, but the idea that women must fight each other for men who only intend to eat them up.
Anyways, follow me on letterboxd @giannathehayes.
