Then again, “clue” might be too subtle a word. Among the exceptions are Frank’s wife, Shelley (a nicely chilled Gemma Chan) Peg’s husband, Pete (Asif Ali) and Margaret (KiKi Layne), a depressive insomniac whose violent unraveling provides an early clue that all is not well. Notably, too, not every resident of this community is white, which is one sign that this isn’t the typical Hollywood ’50s flashback. Who exactly is Frank (a silky-smooth Chris Pine), the combination corporate boss, town mayor and cult leader who exerts such a hold on Alice and Jack and the other couples living in this sunbaked utopia? What is the nature of the Victory Project, the top-secret government enterprise that employs Jack and the other husbands on their block? The answers threaten to push Alice through the proverbial looking glass, whether she’s beholding a nightmarish vision in the mirror or cleaning a large window that suddenly closes in on her, underscoring her entrapment with an all-too-literal thud. And Pugh’s Alice, at first cheerfully accepting of the status quo, soon starts asking dangerous questions. It helps that Alice has a husband, Jack (Harry Styles), who’s more or less the anti-Ralph, and not just because he thinks nothing of sweeping the dinner plates aside and treating his wife as a tabletop amuse-bouche.Īfter a while, though, you might be reminded of a very different Alice, the one who finds herself adrift in a strange, often sinister land where everything and everyone is a surreal imitation of life. That’s true even if Pugh’s Alice seems to inhabit a brighter, comfier (if less funny) vision of 1950s domesticity than “The Honeymooners,” one that’s awash in Midcentury Modern splendor and sits at the end of a picture-perfect desert cul-de-sac. Watching her go about her daily routine - cooking every meal, cleaning the house from top to bottom and venturing into town for the occasional grocery run - you might be reminded of Alice Kramden. In Olivia Wilde’s trouble-in-paradise thriller “Don’t Worry Darling,” Florence Pugh plays a devoted housewife called Alice, a common enough name that here evokes a few famous antecedents.