Lifetime’s ‘Don’t Let Him Find You’ Is ‘A History of Violence’-Lite [Review]

The central premise of writer Stephen Romano’s Lifetime movie Don’t Let Him Find You is nearly identical to that of David Cronenberg’s A History of Violence: a life-changing event in an everyday citizen’s life is captured on the news, propelling them into the spotlight and revealing that they once had a completely separate – and dangerous – former life.

In Violence, Viggo Mortensen’s character Tom was <spoilers for a ~20 year old film> a hit-man who left a life of crime life behind. In Don’t Let Him Find You, Alex McDowell (Brianna Cohen) has a similarly violent past, captured by director Christine Conradt in slightly hazy, washed-out flashbacks.

Alex is plagued by nightmares of a battle with a woman, eventually revealed to be her sister Ashley (Ella Frazee). The outcome was deadly and Alex fled, changing her name, cutting ties with her powerful mother, and spending the ensuing 15 years flying under the radar. During that time, she has settled down with husband Robert (Phillip Boyd) and raised daughter Charlie (Audrey Lynn-Marie) in a protective (ie: slightly overbearing) bubble.

Everything changes when the family goes to the park on Alex’s birthday and she saves the life of Mary Woodhouse (Annie Cook) when the older woman suffers a heart attack. Alex’s humanitarian measures are captured on dozens of cell phones and, in the blink of an eye, local reporter Jane Chance (Courtney Grace) is harassing her for an interview and featuring her on TV without Alex’s consent.

The exposure is enough to lure in shady True Crime blogger Stuart Jones (Bryan Frank), who picks up the scent and begins digging. Blackmail and murder soon follow.

Don’t Let Him Find You has plenty of potential in its first act. This is when the mystery Alex’s backstory is at its peak and the story can feasibly go in any number of directions. Alex’s insistence on protecting her anonymity also seems counter-intuitive to her desire to protect her family, and there’s some genuine conflict in Robert’s desire to come clean to both the police and the media in order to control the narrative and spare upsetting Charlie. In a wise move, Robert isn’t completely in the dark about his wife’s past, though it’s clear that he doesn’t know the whole truth, either.

This is also when the murders occur (in retrospect, they both occur too early and too close together). Conradt isn’t particularly showy, but both homicides are filmed in a kind of classic murder mystery style with a black gloved figure shooting and strangling the victims. It’s all relatively exciting.

As the film shifts into its back half, though, Romano’s story quickly runs out of steam. Alex’s refusal to involve the police, headed up by Detective DeAngelis (Brittney Q. Hill), kind of makes sense, but also feels like a minor narrative contrivance.

Sadly, this is where it is evident that Cohen’s performance is relatively static and one note. This is especially evident in Alex’s interactions with Robert as the narrative falls into a rinse/lather/repeat formula wherein Alex begs him to a) trust her b) stay silent, and c) plot a covert escape.

If the film’s first half centers on unpacking the mystery of what prompted Alex to reinvent herself, the back half is all about facing the consequences of fleeing. Alas the reveal – of both the masked murderer, as well as the person pulling the strings – is unsurprising, especially if viewers have been paying any attention.

What’s worst is that the finale is bland. After watching Alex unravel for the better part of 45 minutes, the last act features Alex going on the run, a kidnapping, and a dramatic confrontation with the villains. It should be very exciting and tense, but the result is merely ho-hum.

This is in no small part due to the understated performances by John Castle and Sallie Glaner, both of whom fail to project malice, violent intent, and/or lunacy. Neither character really pops or makes an impression, which is fatal for generating suspense or tension considering how talky the climax is (my kingdom for an outrageous villain monologue!).

The situation is also far too easily resolved, with virtually no violence. This makes Alex’s fears feel blown out of proportion and makes the fate of the murdered characters feel like it occurred in a completely different film. Ironically, this finale also tracks directly onto A History of Violence: Alex is forced to walk into the lion’s den and confront the past that she thought she had escaped.

The difference is that there are legitimate stakes in Cronenberg’s film. As the credits roll on Don’t Let Him Find You, the only feeling is one of missed opportunities.