Prima Facie addresses an urgent and important question: how effectively does the justice system serve survivors of sexual assault? Cynthia Erivo plays Tessa Ensler, an ambitious British barrister who regularly handles rape cases. Her career—and her faith in the legal system—collapses after Julian, a colleague and romantic partner, assaults her. Suzie Miller adapted the screenplay from her acclaimed one-woman stage production, which earned Olivier recognition for Best New Play and Best Actress, as well as a Tony for Jodie Comer. It is easy to see why the material worked so powerfully in the theater. On screen, however, it becomes a profound disappointment.
The film remains a furious condemnation of institutional failures and a plea for reform. As a feature, though, it is deeply muddled, undermined by repetitive narration, obvious visual symbolism and a didactic final act. Strong supporting performances and one compelling stretch in the middle offer limited relief.
Prima Facie
The Bottom Line
A worthy subject and committed performances are let down by blunt filmmaking.
Venue: Toronto International Film Festival (Gala Presentations)
Cast: Cynthia Erivo, Daniel Ings, Toheeb Jimoh, Noma Dumezwemi
Director: Susanna White
Writer: Suzie Miller
Runtime: 1 hour 46 minutes
White, whose credits include the series Generation Kill and the thriller Our Kind of Traitor, opens the film with striking but heavy-handed imagery. Tessa climbs the steps of the Old Bailey already dressed in her robe and wig, her black sequined sneakers setting her apart from the polished, privileged barristers around her. In the first of several voiceovers drawn largely from the play, she calls them “thoroughbreds.” The film then cuts to literal footage of horses.
Tessa insists, “But I’m here too.” Although she is a working-class Cambridge scholar who has succeeded in an elite profession, she belongs among her colleagues. While they leave for drinks, she explains to a junior lawyer that an accused person’s genuine belief in consent can matter even when the victim did not consent. The exchange provides both clumsy exposition and obvious foreshadowing.
Tessa soon has sex with Julian, another promising barrister, in the office. Her voiceover bluntly declares, “I want this.” Ings brings considerable charm to Julian, giving him a warmth that makes their relationship convincing. The role also gives him room to move beyond comic supporting parts, such as the foolish brother in The Gentlemen. Casting is unquestionably one of the film’s strengths.
Miller complicates the story by making the sexual assault legally difficult to prosecute. After what has been a positive evening, Tessa becomes ill from drinking and eating too much and declines Julian’s request for sex again. The film leaves no doubt that he violates her boundaries. Yet White repeatedly illustrates the trauma rather than trusting viewers to understand it: the image loses focus, Julian’s face hardens with anger and shards of broken glass appear. The director has said that the sound and imagery are intended to express Tessa’s inner state, a compelling idea that ultimately feels as blunt as the forceful effects accompanying the assault. These surreal interruptions also clash awkwardly with the mundane narration.
The movie finds much of its power after the assault. Erivo initially seems rigid, but she conveys Tessa’s pain and uncertainty with nuance during a scene at a police station. As officers question her, the camera remains close on her face while the voiceover reveals thoughts she cannot voice: she knows she took a shower and destroyed potential evidence, deleted a message from Julian and had been drinking. Having represented victims before, Tessa understands that her own experience may not provide enough proof to establish what happened.
The story then settles into a familiar courtroom drama, with increasingly conventional visuals. On the stand, Tessa delivers the sort of grand speech commonly associated with the genre, arguing that survivors cannot always provide a logical and consistent account because trauma disrupts memory. The legal system, she says, must recognize that. Erivo’s anger is visceral, but the scene feels constrained by the stage from which the material originated.
Miller does much better with the supporting characters she added for the film. Dumezwemi, known for her work in The Undoing, is moving as Tessa’s mother, a cleaner who does not fully understand her daughter’s professional world but remains fiercely supportive despite fearing that reporting the assault will damage her future. Jimoh, best known as Sam on Ted Lasso, sharpens the film’s exploration of class as Tessa’s brother, whose response to the news is an impulsive plan to confront Julian. The cast and source material deserved a sharper, more confident film.
