by Heath Lynch, Contributing Writer
In 2018 author Delia Owens published a novel that became the topic of many book clubs worldwide: Where the Crawdads Sing. It was a somber and reflective tale that held a captivating murder mystery at its core. In the wake of popular novels like Gone Girl and The Girl on the Train, well… who doesn’t love a good thriller? The book became a number one bestseller that, to date, has sold more than 12 million copies. Now, just four years later, Owens’s work has been adapted to the silver screen.
But, despite valiant efforts from Daisy Edgar-Jones, some gorgeous cinematography, and a decent exploration of abandonment and judgment that not so subtly evokes great works such as The Scarlet Letter and To Kill a Mockingbird, this film falls well short of its potential. Between weak characterizations, sluggish pacing that makes you feel like you’re trudging through the marshes, and an incredibly weak murder “mystery”, this adaptation is likely to leave fans of the book wanting. And for those unfamiliar with the source material? Desperate. It’s quite clear that Where the Crawdads Sing would’ve been better off left alone as a novel.
Our story opens back in 1969 in the marshes of North Carolina where the body of Chase Andrews (Harris Dickinson) has been discovered. The number one suspect quickly becomes Catherine “Kya” Clark (Edgar-Jones), a mysterious woman who lives as a hermit of the swamplands. When she is quickly charged and arrested for murder, we flash back to spend the majority of the film learning about Kya’s past, rife with abuse and isolation, from 1952 all the way up to the present day. This includes trysts with lovers like Tate Walker (Taylor John Smith) and Chase. It all culminates in a trial, in which a jury of Kya’s peers who have mocked and rejected her, judge her guilt or innocence.
I can’t go any further without fully tipping my hat to Edgar-Jones, who is really doing some terrific work throughout this film. She’s putting on a full display of emotions that truly make her performance feel well-rounded and fleshed out. She displays staunch determination and bravery in the face of impossible odds and difficult scenarios. Her portrayal of long lasting emotional scars inflicted by deep-seated wounds of abandonment draw out an endless amount of empathy and compassion from the audience. The way she withdraws from society and becomes shy and reclusive in nature feels like an accurate representation of someone dealing with trauma and abuse. I have no doubt that this performance will resonate with many people on a very emotional and personal level.
It also helps that the world Edgar-Jones lives in as Kya feels like such an intrinsic part of her character, and it is so lovingly photographed. Much of Kya’s source of joy and purpose in life is derived from the nature that she has chosen to envelop herself in. Even if you’re not a big proponent of the outdoors or natural wildlife yourself, it is hard to not be swept up in the beautiful imagery throughout this film. The cinematography here is gorgeous. At no point does anything feel artificial or forced; you genuinely feel like you are living out in the marshlands, and it’s arguably never been captured so lovingly on film. In many ways, it reminded me a lot of the cinematography from Barry Lyndon, a movie that found its lighting through soft sources such as sunlight and candles, and didn’t use artificial lighting in any scene. It feels much the same here: warm and inviting. Watching the tall grass sway in the wind above the waterline, and all of these birds and insects flying through the air, gives the film an almost mystical and whimsical quality. You could make an argument that the cinematography is the best part of this movie, even over Edgar-Jones’s performance, and I wouldn’t fault you.
But it’s not all sunshine and Spanish Moss. This film unfortunately has quite a few issues. To start, the pacing is borderline atrocious. Although the film barely hits the two hour mark, it feels like much longer than that. This is because many scenes revel in their patience. While I always enjoy establishing shots, or longer takes to build tone and atmosphere, it should never be at the expense of pacing. Even the original score isn’t helping. While the score fits the movie quite well, there’s virtually no variance to it. You feel like you’re listening to the same two minutes looped endlessly, only adding to the monotonous tone of the film. It’s very clear that many of these scenes likely have more heft to them in the novel that we are just not experiencing in the medium of film. We can’t experience all of the internal thoughts and monologues the way we can in the book. The inconsistent narration doesn’t help either. Sometimes it’s used extensively, but then we’ll go an hour without any narration at all. The way these scenes drag, plus the lackluster narration, means there are too many instances where we are not getting any progression in the story or at a character level. Inevitably, that makes some elements of the film boring, even if well-intentioned. And, based on mumblings heard from other members of my audience as I was leaving the theater, I was not the only one that felt this way.
Furthermore, the characterization throughout the movie is incredibly one-dimensional. I would lay this at the hands of the screenwriter if this is an adaptation issue, but it could even be an issue with Owens’s original novel. I haven’t read it, so I can’t comment on that for sure. The fact is no one outside of Kya, our lead character, has any shades of gray. They are either morally righteous good people that we unconditionally support, or immoral bastards, bad people that we unconditionally hate. And the movie is not even subtle about it. One character begins conducting physical child abuse and spousal domestic abuse, all as he wipes the running alcohol from his chin, within 10 seconds of the character arriving on screen. Another man starts sexually pressuring a character within their first scene together, so you’re not remotely surprised when that same man tries to rape a character later on. Well, clearly we are supposed to hate them. They are objectively awful human beings. But these are just a couple examples of how this movie is full of tropes and crutches, things your creative writing instructor would’ve told you is weak material your freshman year of college. It just makes for a narrative that’s not nearly as compelling as it can be because it limits options and choices. Because everything is so black and white, right and wrong, there’s little to no room for characters to make mistakes, and for people to grow.
This leads to the biggest problem of the whole movie, in my opinion. This murder mystery is not a mystery at all. The thriller aspects of this film are dead on arrival before the movie even gets going. When you make characters that are so clearly righteous, or so clearly evil, then it constrains the potential as to what your characters can do. Because of that, there’s no mystery whatsoever as to what actually happened surrounding the death of Chase. It’s very clear that this is a murder, not some accidental death, or else the story wouldn’t take place. Then, when your film only has objectively good people, an objectively bad person, and one who is fleshed out and gray, well, it’s not hard to put the puzzle pieces together, regardless of how many red herrings the film throws your way. It’s futile. This failed murder mystery, the hook of your film, only serves to compound the earlier pacing issues. When you already know the big reveal, the big twist, what tension is there to pull you through the movie? It just makes those long scenes feel even longer. It makes the boredom hit you that much harder when there’s no anticipation for what might potentially happen.
Where I will give this film a lot of respect is in its thematic through lines regarding abandonment and judgment. It clearly has a lot to say about broken individuals. It is a champion for those who have been betrayed and abused on a personal level, and those who feel shunned by society at large. Very directly, this film references A Scarlet Letter and To Kill a Mockingbird. Kya has a line about being labeled a harlot, about being ostracized for whoring around. The vitriol she receives from the locals in her town is no different from that of Hester Prynne. She experiences resentment and guilt for just trying to live her own life. Additionally, the defense lawyer character of Tom Milton (played by the great David Strathairn) is a direct homage to the classic Atticus Finch. A quiet, gentle, southern gentleman who does not adhere to the whims of the townspeople around him, and the harmful stereotypes that they profess. He vigilantly stands in defiance of hatred and proclaims we should not judge a book by its cover, but from what’s underneath. Hell, even the courtroom scenes are eerily reminiscent of the 1962 film version of To Kill a Mockingbird. The architecture is nearly identical, and it’s clearly intentional. I respect all that this film reaches to achieve in its examination of abandonment and judgment. Though I’m not sure it fully achieves all that it’s aiming for given the final plot points, it’s worth commending what was accomplished.
Lastly, for all the Swifties out there, Taylor Swift released an original song titled “Carolina” for this film that runs during the closing credits. It’s a soft, acoustic piece that feels right at home with all of the marshland imagery throughout the film. To me, it feels like a blatant reach for awards consideration at year’s end. So for those who keep track of things like this, take note of this track for Best Original Song considerations.
This picture is let down by its marketing which propositions the film as a riveting thriller, a murder mystery. In reality, Where the Crawdads Sings is a reflective character study of one character and no others. If you’re a fan of the original novel, or are really jonesing for a weak murder mystery, this film might be for you. However, I would imagine most viewers, especially those unfamiliar with the source material, will be underwhelmed by this story, and turned off by the slow natured pacing. You’d be better off exploring the marshes yourself and letting this film sink into the swamp.
Score: 5/10
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