Directing: A
Acting: A-
Writing: A
Cinematography: B+
Editing: A

Today I learned, thanks to Never Rarely Sometimes Always, that in the state of Pennsylvania, a minor can only get an abortion with her parents’ consent. Pennsylvania is hardly alone in this matter, though: I looked it up, and although laws vary state by state regarding parental consent versus parental notification (and also whether one or both parents must consent or be notified), 21 states explicitly require parental consent of some kind. That may seem at first glance to be perfectly reasonable to many, but consider this: in effect, it also means that in 21 states parents have the legal right to force their underage children to bear children when they don’t want to.

That is fucking barbaric.

To her immense credit, writer-director Eliza Hittman (Beach Rats) has no evident interest in making Never Rarely Sometimes Always about the barbarism—at least, not directly. There are certainly very indirect hints at it, especially when her 17-year-old protagonist, Autum (a wonderful Sidney Flanigan) is asked to answer a series of questions for which the four possible answers are the words of this movie’s title. She’s at an abortion clinic in Manhattan, and the questions get into sexual history and the possibility of abuses that got her into this position.

The thing is, it’s easy to imagine certain people reacting to this movie with a range from resentment to hate, and all that does is support the world presented by the film: one in which men are not to be trusted, and women are to be subjugated. I should change “people” here to men, because the vast majority of people put off by this film are bound to be men. Because, it’s true: not one of men in this movie, at least those that are actual characters, is a good guy. To be fair, once the final procedure for Autumn’s abortion is underway, only a few seconds of which is shown, the doctor performing the procedure is what appears to be a fairly young man. Presumably he is sympathetic? We never see his face though. Only his arms. But Autumn’s dad? Autumn’s boss? The young man Autumn and her cousin meet on the bus to New York? All creeps.

The way I see it, Never Rarely Sometimes Always merely presents a world that illustrates what it feels like for many young women to exist in America, even on 2020. And that’s just what I happened to zero in on; Hittman never makes that the overt point of the movie. She’s just telling the story of a 17-year-old girl who has gotten pregnant, does not want to be pregnant, apparently cannot talk to her parents about it, and has to travel to another state to get an abortion. And what of the many girls in similar circumstances in midwestern or western states that are geographically much larger? Sadly. compared to many of them, Autumn is lucky she’s even as close as Pennsylvania is to New York.

Not that it’s easy for her. She works at a local grocery store with her cousin, Skylar (Talia Ryder), who basically takes it upon herself to escort Autumn on this trip. The trip takes longer than they intended or expected, for a multitude of reasons: Autumn’s pregnancy is further along than she had been told at a clinic in her town; the procedure can’t take place at the Broolyn clinic they go to first and she has to go to the Manhattan one the next day, where she finds out it has to take place over two days. I kept thinking about what an amazing friend Skylar was being to Autumn, and wondering to what degree Autumn would recognize that in retrospect as they grew older. Because right now, they are just teenagers, faced with daunting circumstances, and they just don’t have the time or the capacity to think about it that broadly in the immediate term.

Eliza Hittman’s expertly crafted script leaves a whole lot of questions unanswered, presumably by design: we don’t know exactly how Autumn got pregnant, or who the father is, or what her parents’ politics are. Hittman deprives audiences of much the usual information used to judge a young girl who has gotten pregnant, or even why she wants an abortion, although what we do get should be good enough: “I’m just not ready to be a mom,” Autumn tells one clinic counselor. All those other questions are just not relevant.

What is relevant is the mass of difficulties facing Autumn after she makes this choice, a choice that is hers and hers alone to make, and the only other person who should be involved is a doctor, who can assess her physical condition, present her with options, and leave the decision up to her.

Again, I freely admit to projecting a lot here, because I feel strongly about these things, and Never Rarely Sometimes Always never telegraphs any of these ideas. It’s strictly matter-of-fact from start to finish, which is the source of its greatness: this is the way of the world for many young girls with an unwanted pregnancy, and this is just one story of how that world must be navigated. A lot of it is very uncomfortable for the viewer, sometimes heartbreaking (particularly the scene to which the tile refers).

Still, this movie is a bit tricky, and it’s hard to imagine a lot of people watching it. This isn’t entertainment so much as ultra-realistic, understated drama about a difficult subject. Who wants that? Well, all I can say is this movie commands attention, and it is thus far the best movie I have seen this year.

(It can be rented on Amazon Prime Video for $5.99.)

*Sometimes a friend just does the right thing instinctively.*

Overall: A