Luca Guadagnino is no stranger to the shocking and uncomfortable. After grabbing hold of the world’s attention last year with two stylistically bold features (“Queer” and “Challengers”), he returns with “After the Hunt,” a psychological thriller set within the halls of Yale University. 

Following a sexual assault scandal, Alma (Julia Roberts), a philosophy professor, is faced with the dilemma of believing her female student Maggie (Ayo Edebiri) or her close personal friend and fellow professor Hank (Andrew Garfield). The film meditates on generational tensions, academic optics and the cost of prestige, executed through probing cinematography, haunting sound design and restrained, precise performances. 

“After The Hunt” premiered in North America on Sept. 26 as the opening film of the 63rd New York Film Festival. Following the screening, the cast and crew — including director Luca Guadagnino, screenwriter Nora Garrett, Julia Roberts, Andrew Garfield, Michael Stuhlbarg and Ayo Edebiri — gathered for a collegiate publication roundtable discussion.

As the dean of the philosophy department states in the film, academia has become “the business of optics rather than substance.” 

The setting is a notable departure for Guadagnino. His usual warmth and texture is traded out for gothic architecture soaked in gray rain. Writer Nora Garrett explained that the architecture felt “both kind of oppressive and lofty,” as Yale “offers and promises a lot of privilege … and then New Haven, the city that surrounds it, does not get to participate in that same level of privilege.” Guadagnino added that the campus “felt to me like a great tool to tell the story in terms of cinematic qualities” and that the “particular” then “eventually becomes the universal.” That atmosphere sets the ideal stage for a story about the institutional illusion of integrity. As the dean of the philosophy department states in the film, academia has become “the business of optics rather than substance.” 

Alma’s mentorship of Maggie provides the film’s core tension. Andrew Garfield reflected on this dynamic during the roundtable: “Something about true mentorship has betrayal baked into it … in order for the young to become an elder, there has to be something (that is) broken.”

Garfield plays Hank, a morally ambiguous figure far from his usually earnest characters. Casting him in the role leverages the audience’s preconceptions in an interesting way, with his long-standing reputation as Hollywood’s “nice guy” pushing viewers to doubt his guilt, making the central question of “did he do it?” even more charged. “It was scary,” he admitted, but credited Guadagnino’s directing in helping him take on the challenge.  

The film is rich in ideas — mentorship as betrayal, the performance of power, generational tensions — but at times, those ideas feel more like talking points than lived experience.

“Luca does have a kind of imagination that not many directors afford themselves,” Garfield said. “(Guadagnino) loves collaborating with artists, and he likes to see actors expand their own range and repertoire, and gives (them) an opportunity to do that.” 

That sense of trust was demonstrated throughout the entire story. Michael Stuhlbarg, who plays Alma’s husband Frederik, noted, “We take the information that’s given to us and we shape lives from that. I’m not sure if we’re seeking empathy, even if our characters are doing something disagreeable or that we might find disagreeable … I think, from the inside, you take what you’re given and put it out there, and you let the chips kind of fall where they may.”

There is a visible tension between the screenplay’s intellectual rigor and its emotional accessibility. The film is rich in ideas — mentorship as betrayal, the performance of power, generational tensions — but at times, those ideas feel more like talking points than lived experience. As a result, some scenes take on the feeling of long-winded theses.

Still, Garrett’s ambition is admirable. The screenplay asks difficult questions without offering easy answers, and its coldness feels intentional, even if not always emotionally satisfying. Guadagnino’s strong visual language ultimately saves the film, elevating moments that might otherwise collapse under the weight of the abstract. 

With “After the Hunt,” Guadagnino proves once again that his strength lies not just in storytelling, but in perception, specifically with regard to the human body. Frequent centered profile shots often break the fourth wall, forcing the audience into direct confrontation. Alma looks right at you, and yet remains almost unreadable. Roberts said the character’s emotional restraint was “exhausting” and that her “performative nature” was an “immense challenge for (her) as an actor.” 

“There’s intentionality (behind) everything, from the art that’s hanging on the walls or a statue … to what we’re doing with our hands. It’s considered and in conversation.” Ayo Edebiri

The focus on hands in “After the Hunt” is one of its most pointed visual choices. The film uses hands to signal power, intimacy, consent and guilt, often all at once. They become symbols of complicity and control, showing who holds power and who gives it away. In a story where much is left unsaid, hands reveal what words obscure. In a world centered on appearances, hands reveal all.

Guadagnino shoots on film, emphasizing immediacy and weight. 

“There’s intentionality (behind) everything, from the art that’s hanging on the walls or a statue … to what we’re doing with our hands,” Edebiri said. “It’s considered and in conversation.”

The score, composed by frequent Guadagnino collaborators Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, is punctuated by sparse, haunting piano and sudden bursts of percussive brass. It is used sparingly but purposefully, emphasizing pangs of emotion and physical pain while adding to the pressured atmosphere. The film’s final moment cuts to black with the word “Cut!” — a sharp jolt that feels less like resolution and more like a reminder that everything you just saw was a performance.

As Guadagnino put it, in this film “intimacy is the breaking point … the desire for the other is an appearance. The conflict with the other is the moment where finally, people get together.” “After the Hunt” lingers not on release, but on what remains unsaid.