Note. Some spoilers may follow.
The September 2026 Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) hosted the world premiere of Prima Facie, a screen adaptation of the Tony Award- and Olivier Award-winning play of the same name. The film stars Oscar-nominated Cynthia Erivo as Tessa Ensler, a criminal defence barrister in the heart of London’s legal core, who has built a reputation for her skillful arguments and strong courtroom presence.
Tessa begins the film with immense trust in the criminal justice system and relies on the law to ensure the process, the rules, and the burden of proof hold up no matter who stands on which side. Jurisprudence sustains her faith in legal formalism, the belief that the law is objective, irrespective of broader social contexts, and helps her navigate the merciless and adversarial trials surrounding sexual assault and violent crime. This changes when she discovers how flawed and misogynistic the justice system is when she herself becomes the victim of rape, standing on the other side of the courtroom as one of the few women to speak up.
The film is brilliantly written and tactfully directed, weaving together themes of power, privilege, bias, and toxic masculinity, alongside the despair that follows a sexual assault socially, emotionally, and psychologically. The film depicts the sad reality of how survivors of rape are treated under the law, and whose voices disproportionately have the most power and influence. The movie has too many nuances to cover everything; however, a few things stand out.
How the Film Captures the Body’s Response to Trauma
Tessa’s experience of rape was a heart-wrenching watch, and the directorial and acting choices highlighted the complexities of trauma. The directorial and creative team uses the symbolism of broken glass to capture the sense of self-fragmentation that so often follows surviving a traumatic experience. White noise evokes dissociation, the survival response of detaching from one’s bodily experience to endure unimaginable pain and suffering.
This supports the polyvagal theory of autonomic arousal, which in part suggests that when we cannot fight or flee from a threatening experience, our nervous system will decrease in arousal (or freeze), conserve bodily functions, and “prepare for death.” The physiological changes in this state allow the body to dampen pain and preserve energy, which can leave a person feeling numb, detached, or unable to move or speak. The stressful situation also affects a person’s ability to store and consolidate memories.
The internal process of a physiological trauma response is portrayed well, and the film also highlights how these natural survival instincts are weaponized both in and out of the courtroom to discredit women and survivors of sexual violence. While the criminal justice systems in Canada and the United Kingdom (UK) have some safeguards for survivors (for instance, the “rape shield” provision in Canada, which bars using a complainant’s sexual history to suggest she was more likely to have consented or is less believable), the cross-examinations can often be used to discredit the survivors’ experiences based on their recollections of memories or events. The film calls on courts to better understand the psychological and physiological impacts of surviving violence when adjudicating sexual assault cases.
Grief, Self-Doubt, and the Decision to Report
Erivo’s performance captured a rich internal struggle of grieving what was lost: her sense of self, trust, integrity, and relationships. This included her struggle to grapple with choosing to report her experience of being raped by a colleague to the authorities.
In the UK, where the film is set, approximately 1 in 4 women and 1 in 18 men experience a sexual assault. Yet 5 in 6 women and 7 in 8 men do not report these offences to the police. Similarly, in Canada, compared to physical assaults, sexual assaults are reported to police in only about 8.6 percent of cases.
Reporting a sexual assault can be a daunting and life-changing process, and as Tessa experienced, the adversarial nature of the criminal justice system is fundamentally flawed when it comes to sexual violence. This is part of why many survivors don’t feel safe reporting their assaults to authorities. In a qualitative study of 23 survivors of sexual assault, 65 percent knew the perpetrator, much like Tessa. Many participants also did not receive follow-up from police after making a report, which discouraged them from reporting future sexual violence and eroded their trust in the justice system.
Other research highlights a tendency for people to disproportionately blame victims of rape when they are assaulted by a known individual or acquaintance compared to a stranger. Throughout the film, Tessa struggles with her own self-doubt, which is a common experience for survivors of sexual violence. She actively questions whether she should or shouldn’t report, and questions her own experiences, which is a natural response to trauma.
Tessa chose to report to the police, and that choice is not one every survivor makes or should feel obligated to make. Deciding not to report is not a sign of weakness; it is often a reasonable act of self-protection within a system that too often fails the people it is meant to serve. Yet stories like Tessa’s remind us that speaking up, whether to a trusted friend, a therapist, or a courtroom, can be a powerful act of reclaiming one’s voice. And every survivor who shares their experience, in whatever form feels safe, adds to a collective call for a justice system that believes, protects, and responds to survivors.
No Means No, and It Must Be Heard
In a live question-and-answer at TIFF, screenwriter Suzie Miller and star Cynthia Erivo shared their public advocacy for healthier masculinities that promote and respect women’s autonomy and consent. Erivo spoke about people’s resistance to hearing the word “no,” stating, “No is no. And if I don’t say yes, I still mean no.” This is an important message for consent; however, in many cases, there may be fear of refusing sex or stating boundaries. As Erivo put it, “We have to address the way we react to the word ‘no’ so that we can actually say it comfortably and know that we will be listened to.”
