‘The Liberation’ review: A remarkable Carrie Coon powers Guy Nattiv’s expertly-observed US cult drama

Dir: Guy Nattiv. US. 2026. 124mins

In 1980s suburban New Jersey, wife and mother Rita (Carrie Coon) seems to have it all; a secure job in banking, a comfortable home, a loving family. But her tragic past casts a shadow over everything in her life – and leaves her sensitive to the attentions of younger woman Ricki (Lily James) who, it turns out, heads a cult. Based on the experiences of director Guy Nattiv’s own grandmother, this period drama is driven by a tour de force performance from Coon, but also draws power from its observations on the legacy of trauma and the challenges of the female mid-life experience.

There’s a sense that Nattiv is piecing together his own understanding of his personal history

Having premiered at Telluride, The Liberation is on a healthy festival run that has also included Toronto and London. Nattiv previously won an Oscar for his 2019 short Skin (his 2023 feature Golda was nominated for best hair and make-up), but it is Coon who is most likely to receive awards attention here. That should help boost the film’s profile when it releases in the US in January, with further territories likely to follow.

Rita may seem a typical American wife and mother, but she was born in Poland and, we learn, is the sole survivor of the Nazi concentration camp in which her parents and siblings died. Robbed of her childhood, Rita eventually built a life in the US, has a comfortable marriage with Rueben (Tracy Letts) and two young adult daughters, Jo (Odessa Young) and Ella (Bella Ramsay). Yet Rita suffers from survivor’s guilt, and Coon’s nuanced performance allows us to see Rita’s acute pain through tiny cracks in her stoicism. Prescription antidepressants don’t even scratch the surface.

When the younger Ricki breezes into the bank to deposit a large wad of cash, she senses something in Rita, a need that is not being met. Ricki invites Rita to join her group of friends – “all women, no judgement” is the compelling pitch – who dance on the beach and share their deepest confidences in trust circles. At first, Rita finds palpable liberation in their message of self-acceptance. Soon, however, Ricki gradually isolates Rita from her family until she is living under strict rules (heads must be shaved, food is strictly rationed) in a gated rural compound.

Nattiv, who wrote the screenplay with Noa Berman Herzberg, was just a child when his grandmother joined what her family later realised was a cult. As the narrative moves between the present and flashbacks, there’s a sense that Nattiv is piecing together his own understanding of his personal history, of the decisions that can lead an ordinary, intelligent person down such a dark path. Nattiv is careful to keep the film in balance. We can see exactly why Rita would be seduced by what Ricki is offering, even as we are aware of the dangers ahead. Her time of life also leaves her vulnerable. “My body is at war with itself,” states one of Ricki’s disciples, a sentiment that will strike a chord with many viewers.

As Rita opens herself up to Ricki, there’s an initial sense that she could legitimately find a way back to herself. The optimism is embodied by a captivating James, exuding a powerful feminine energy in a predatorial role usually associated with men. James is careful to withhold the more obviously malevolent aspects of her character. There is an ambiguity, early on at least, as to whether her motives are entirely selfish. (Any notion of genuine kindness will, however, be cruelly disabused.)

Cinematographers Tudor Vladimir Panduru and Fabian Gamper give the film a gritty early ‘80s look, unfussy visuals and natural lighting attuned to the numb monotony of Rita’s pre-Ricki life, the isolation of the compound. Other craft elements are equally subtle, including production and costume design in which a ’70s influence still looms large in muted colours and drab lines.

Strong supporting performances from Letts, Young and, particularly, Ramsey as Rita’s increasingly confused family combine with nimble editing from Sabine Hoffman and Yuval Orr to give a 360-degree view of the drama from inside and outside of Ricki’s inner circle. Rita’s fragmented relationship with her daughters drives the film’s propulsive final third, in which Jo and Ella desperately attempt to reconnect with their mother and the action moves into psychological thriller territory as the depth of Ricki’s influence becomes terrifyingly clear.