For the most part, the people Autumn and Skylar meet in New York are helpful, especially those in the healthcare system. Hittman also dodges the “scary city” story that her film could have become. But Hittman also pushes her camera in close on Flanigan and Ryder, looking for the truth in their faces instead of manipulative dialogue. Autumn barely talks at all for long stretches. It also helps that Hittman is daringly unafraid of silence. Whether it’s Autumn piercing her nose after finding out she’s pregnant-maybe to take a form of control again-or how the women scramble to get what they need in New York, decisions feel organic and in-the-moment, adding to an incredible realism that’s embedded throughout the film. What really elevates Hittman’s work here is the sense that Autumn and Skylar are making believable, character-driven decisions on the fly. With very little money, they make the journey via bus, and are pushed through a system that Autumn wasn’t expecting. Whether it’s the bro who makes lewd gestures at a restaurant, the grocery store manager who kisses his female employees’ hands, or the drunk pervert who pulls out his dick on a subway train, teenage girls navigate a minefield of toxic masculinity on a daily basis.Īfter Autumn learns that Pennsylvania, her home state, requires parental consent, she convinces Skylar to travel with her to New York to get the procedure. Her filmmaking values detail over melodrama, unsparing of the plight of the teenage girl in America, a place that often treats them as objects or preys on them. I’ll admit that I have a very low tolerance for stories of young people or children in jeopardy because it so often feels like a cheap trick to pull at the viewer's heartstrings.

Just the simple plot description of “Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Always” makes it sound pretty manipulative: a pair of teenage girls struggle in New York City after one of them becomes pregnant and they have to travel there for an abortion.

Never always sometimes book