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Her Private Hell (2026)


Her Private Hell
is written and directed by Nicolas Winding Refn, and unfortunately it continues the filmmaker's uneven output following the heights of Drive. This is a film that wields symbolism like a sledgehammer, repeatedly beating the audience over the head with imagery and dialogue that leave little room for interpretation. There is no subtlety to its themes, and the screenplay introduces some characters through clumsy exposition rather than allowing them to develop naturally. The score is another major distraction, overwhelming scenes that would have benefited from restraint instead of constantly demanding the audience's attention. To make matters worse, the ending is telegraphed so early that there is little satisfaction when it finally arrives. It left me wondering whether the brilliance of Drive was more a product of its cast and collaboration than Refn's direction alone.

Sophie Thatcher, known for Companion and Yellowjackets, delivers what is easily her weakest performance to date. She has proven herself capable of carrying emotionally demanding material before, but nothing here ever comes together. Whether it's the dialogue, the direction, or the character itself, her acting never finds its footing and lacks the authenticity needed to anchor the film.

Charles Melton, known for May December and Riverdale, gives a performance that is simply forgettable. He never leaves much of an impression despite his screen time. Havana Rose Liu, known for Bottoms and No Exit, struggles with a character that comes across as stiff and emotionally distant, resulting in a wooden performance. Kristine Froseth, known for The Assistant and Looking for Alaska, also feels miscast, unable to find a natural rhythm within the film's heightened style. It's disappointing because each of these actors has shown far stronger work elsewhere, suggesting the shortcomings lie more with the material and direction than with their abilities.

Overall, Her Private Hell is an exhausting experience that mistakes obvious symbolism for meaningful storytelling. Between its heavy-handed script, intrusive score, predictable conclusion, and underwhelming performances, the film never gives the audience a reason to invest in its world or characters. For me, this is another major disappointment from Nicolas Winding Refn and one of the weakest films of the year. Result: F

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