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Bobbi Broome · May 23, 2026

A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (2014) | Series 1: Women on the Verge (Of A Nervous Breakdown)

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Are we going to talk about the elephant, I mean cat, in the room?

About the Series: In this 7-week series, I will review and analyze films specially curated for the theme “Women on the Verge (Of A Nervous Breakdown).” Enjoy analyses and thoughts on our cinematic favorites, underrated gems, and discover what makes the featured women protagonists, “On the Verge.”

I am on the edge of my seat for A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (2014) to be the opener for this series. From the mind of Ana Lily Amirpour, this Iranian vampire-horror has been on my watchlist for many years now. Dark, sultry, moody, and calculated, this film gives us, and The Girl, a full meal to chew and ponder on.

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The Girl, portrayed by Sheila Vand, is a self-isolating character who spends her time in the eternal vampiric afterlife acting as a self-appointed vigilante to womankind. Very girl boss of her. She sulks and preys upon male characters who are in the midst of nonsensical, generally harmful activity. Pushing them over the edge and into the afterlife, or in the case of The Boy, pushing him into a potential minor heart attack and likely lifelong trauma.

Though she eventually meets her match, a curious young man, Arash, who finds limited companionship in his nameless fat cat (cat people, this one is for us), and constant agony in his father, who is struggling with addiction. While coming from a presumed Halloween party dressed as, you guessed it, a vampire, Arash, while higher than the sky, stops and stares at a lampost. The Girl, curious, slinks over to him, her hijab-esque attire fanning out behind her like Dracula’s cape. It is an immediate mystical connection the two share. Little is spoken, yet a mutual understanding and favor between the two is reached. Arash is the only male character in this story not victimized by the Girl, whom I am also dubbing “The Verge.” Arash’s welcoming demeanor and general friendly mindset give him safety in her blood-sucking clutches.

Watch this film under a full moon, with your favorite candle burning softly in the background, or you’re not doing it right. This is an obscure and highly stylized film, notably shown in Black and White. A choice that exemplifies the film’s themes of loneliness, female rage, and vengeance. Ana Lily Amirpour is in full creative control, and it shows. However, while I love the idea of a badass, skater, music-head, Iranian woman vampire who uses Bat Signal tendencies to find the intersection of a woman in crisis and antagonizing male ego, the film leaves a bit on the table. There are many enjoyable sulky elements, such as an adorable and overweight cat, amicable dynamics between our titular character and newfound sadboi mancandy, moody night scenes with striking contrast, and vengeance against skeevy men. These elements are cut by the droning undertone. The film focuses mainly on mood and tone, opposed to pivotal plot points, which it knowingly releases without second thought.

In this film, The Girl is “The Verge.” While she herself is not on the verge of a mental breakdown, she may cause one. In a dauntless manner, she stalks the hazy nights of Bad City, Iran. She sets the tone. As the judge, jury, and executioner of the city, she decides who is pushed over the edge, who will become her next full-course meal, and who is safe this time. The Girl flips the classic stereotype of the monstrous, male, shadowy character on its head. Tossing the idea of a towering, looming figure, we are met with a heavily lipsticked, unassuming woman who will suck all life from the body, steal a little boy’s skateboard, and keep going in the blink of an eye. There is something a bit sexy and alluring about a film that knows exactly who it is and who it is not for, on the verge or not.

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