Ryne Walley’s review published on Letterboxd:
"Ooh, I did not want to mess up your big grilled cheese speech. But, oh, you done fucked up, lady."
The Most Dangerous Satire.
To be honest, especially after seeing the final picture following its faint release prior to pandemic digital availability, the controversy preceding The Hunt is as unjustified and vain as one would expect. Hell, all of this fruitless hullabaloo almost makes the film more disappointing than it actually is given the double-barrel ridicule it so blatantly, and broadly, exercises over the course of its brisk runtime. That same mockery may ultimately be the experience's downfall due to its unsubtle yet regrettably unspecific core thematic mission, among other deficiencies related to shoddy comedy and narrative scantiness. But most of the action sequences are effectively helmed with a visceral kick thanks to confident framing and inspired choreography, and Betty Gilpin's utterly kick-ass lead performance as the wry Crystal Creasey makes at least one viewing practically essential.
Letterboxd critic/friend William Hopper said it best: "The Hunt, shockingly, is not a bad flick, just a genre flick that purposefully steps on the toes of everybody’s politics. I wouldn’t be surprised if this movie is fondly remembered by genre fans in a decade or so." Relative to its unwarranted notoriety and mishmash attitude, The Hunt isn't particularly impressive. An amusing and, for better or worse, consistent farce, certainly, but not the distressing shock and awe event it was prematurely judged to be. See it for Gilpin and the action, not the peripheral agitation.
"Now, do I have to keep listening to Beethoven, or can we fucking get on with it?"