Every Main Character In Don't Worry Darling, Ranked Worst To Best

Alice's husband, Jack Chambers, is introduced as a platonic midcentury husband straight out of an Al Parker illustration in the pages of a post-war women's magazine: handsome, charming, faithful, and lively. At first, his one flaw seems to be his almost excessive dedication to his work. However, as Alice gets closer and closer to discovering the truth about Victory, the limitations of Jack's marital devotion rear their ugly head.

On paper, it's a great concept for a blood-curdling antagonist, but the execution sells it short. Come to think of it, Harry Styles got a bit of a raw deal in his first major acting role. Not only is Jack a much meatier and more difficult role than anything he'd been asked to do before, but the cast he's surrounded with makes it all the more apparent how hard it is for Styles to communicate nuance and authenticity. 

Styles' line readings and facial expressions are often sophomoric in a way that recalls amateur theater actors, but that's not the only issue. The big problem with his performance is that it feels like a void. As the author of Alice's pain, and the clearest example of how the Victory men flit between haughty playacting and deep-seated insecurity, Jack is supposed to embody everything the movie has to say about the psychology of male entitlement. But there's no sense of psychology to Styles' choices, just the strain of a first-timer trying to get the basics right.

Frank is the character at the center of it all: the founder and leader of Victory, whose vision powers the everyday lives of all the town's residents. The film initially positions Frank as a distant, nigh-intangible figure. He's the man at the top of the mountain, only accessible in brief glimpses. Eventually, though, Frank becomes Alice's direct opponent in the cat-and-mouse game that her life becomes.

It's a larger-than-life character that calls for a larger-than-life performance. The thing about Chris Pine's work, though, is that while it absolutely sings when it rises to the occasion, it doesn't always reach those highs. Here, Pine is something of an against-type casting choice. He's made a career of playing everymen who, despite their charisma, feel approachable, understandable, and vulnerable. Frank retains that charm, but Pine is asked to lace it with danger and mystery. 

There are moments in the film that feel like watching a new side of Pine reveal itself in real time; who knew his smile could be so frightening, or his close-ups so menacing? But there are also moments where the gamble doesn't quite work, such as Frank's speech at his house, which comes across more like the ramblings of a department manager than the introduction of a mighty arch-villain. Inconsistency is the word here: For all the wow factor of Pine's performance, Frank doesn't always feel like a man who could feasibly inspire feverish, cult-like devotion. But in the scenes where he does? Oof.

Violet's husband, Bill Johnson, is one of the most hopelessly pathetic characters in an ensemble full of different flavors of pathetic men. Much like his wife, he is defined by his status as a newcomer, but unlike Violet he is a man. As such, Victory has more in store for him than the routines of a complacent housewife. Even more than the likes of Jack or Peter (Asif Ali, who, for the record, gives a solid performance but has too minor a role to factor into this list), Bill is absolutely desperate to please his co-workers and his new boss — whatever it takes to ascend Victory's pecking order.

Incidentally, desperation defines Douglas Smith's performance. The up-and-coming actor does a fantastic job of playing a pitiable bundle of nerves, with a self-debasing admiration for Frank that calls to mind the bootlicking losers you find in an evil billionaire's Twitter replies. It's pitch-perfect work on that level alone, but what makes it a truly fascinating performance is the hint of guilt and moral uncertainty evinced by Bill's more contrite behaviors. Smith gives the sense that Bill understands the significance of what he's doing, and can't seem to shake off that knowledge. Of course, that only makes him more detestable; one can't help but shudder at the thought of the mental gymnastics he must be doing to see himself as a good guy.

One of the ways in which "Don't Worry Darling" builds tension is by keeping us confused. Starting when Victory's residents are already happily settled encourages the viewer to just go along with everything, as Alice and her fellow housewives do. When Alice begins to realize that she doesn't know what she's doing there, it's convincing because we don't really know, either — and, once that cat is out of the bag, every new throwaway detail only serves to further mess with our heads. That's very much the case with Dr. Collins, a quiet, mysterious man who's namechecked by Frank as one of the project's original masterminds, and who then turns out to be ... a physician?

The movie never explains exactly what's up with Dr. Collins, nor what his exact relationship to the Victory Project is. However, while he's about town doing his doctor duties, Timothy Simons gives the strongest male performance in the show. His scenes with Florence Pugh, full of unscrupulous menace masquerading as warm folksiness, are among the film's most disturbing. Ultimately, we don't really need to understand the exact nature of Collins' role and the minutiae of the threat he poses to Alice. The stony death glares he shoots her in between friendly quips tell us everything we need to know.

Behind every mediocre man assumed to be great is a brilliantly wicked woman working overtime to hold the con together. Shelley is not just Frank's grinning wife, nor is her importance at Victory limited to the influence she exerts over the town's women as their beloved first lady and fearsome ballet instructor. As we come to learn, she and Frank run a joint operation, and it's Shelley who's constantly keeping Frank in check when his ego causes him to act out of line.

If Chris Pine's performance doesn't always imbue Frank with the gravitas that would make for a truly unforgettable villain, Gemma Chan provides enough for the both of them. Her performance is not only transfixing but deeply intelligent. She understands that Shelley would be smart enough not to reveal her true nature to the community, and so, instead of using creepiness to make a strong impression, Chan plays Shelley as a personable and likable figure; even her calculated gestures of aggression are designed to raise no suspicions. The outraged speech that Shelley gives at the Chambers' late in the movie is an absolute masterclass in expressing nuance and detail through acting choices.

No one can accuse Alice Chambers of not trying to make it work. Even as her suspicions about the true nature of the Victory Project become impossible to overlook, she does everything she can to fall in line. When hallucinations plague her out of nowhere, she ignores them. When her husband is disturbed by her questions, she throws herself into cleaning and endeavors to stop thinking about the bigger picture. But Alice is too much of a muckraker, bless her heart. Eventually, the truth calls to her, and she runs to reach it.

Naturally, "Don't Worry Darling" is an incredible showcase for Florence Pugh. Alice is the kind of eminently likable rogue hero that every actor dreams of getting to play in a major movie. It's impossible not to cheer on Pugh when she's embodying Alice's newfound resolve to bring down the house and get this nonsense over with. Even before that, though, the role allows Pugh to flaunt her considerable gifts and show off every facet of her unbelievable range. As a romantic lead, she's irresistibly charismatic. As a victim, she's vivid and revolting without ever being pitiable. As a woman in mental disarray, she's spectacular, in that Adjani/Deneuve-esque arthouse-scream-queen way. Her performance goes through about a thousand different shades and emotional registers, and never strikes one false note. The cast of "Don't Worry Darling" is (mostly) excellent, but, in the end, it's unmistakably Pugh's show.