Amy Adams’ ‘Sharp Objects’ doesn’t have an edge
Blunted crime thriller cuts out the drama
“Big Little Lies” it’s not.
On the surface, HBO’s latest summer series, “Sharp Objects,” has a lot in common with “Lies.” They share a director (Jean-Marc Vallee), drew a bigname movie star (this time Amy Adams) and are based on popular crime novels led by female characters. But that’s where the similarities end.
“Lies,” which won eight Emmy awards, was a tight, essential and stylish series that deeply examined gender roles, sexual assault and abuse. Those are heights to which “Objects” (Sunday, 9 EDT/PDT, ★★☆☆) can only aspire. Although the eight-episode series eventually perks up, in the seven parts made available for review it’s often a lazy, dreary summer mystery that feels exploitative of the violence it depicts. It’s a disappointing adaptation of its source material, with all the gravitas of a trashy beach read.
Based on the book by “Gone Girl” author Gillian Flynn (which is not a trashy beach read), and scripted by Flynn and Marti Noxon (“UnREAL”), “Objects” is a modern stab at Southern Gothic drama. Camille Preaker (Adams) is an alcoholic St. Louis journalist with a history of self-mutilation who has never recovered from the childhood death of her sister Marian.
She returns to her hometown of Wind Gap, Missouri, to cover the murder of one young girl and the disappearance of another, reuniting with her estranged mother Adora (Patricia Clarkson) and teenage sister Amma (Eliza Scanlen). While reporting the story, she gets close to a detective (Chris Messina) sent to the town to find a possible serial killer.
With her traumatic past, addiction and mental-health issues, Camille’s trip to Wind Gap is excruciating, and initially, it’s excruciating to watch. “Objects” unfolds at the speed of Adams’ less-than-passable drawl. It could easily have been four episodes instead of eight and viewers too bored to stick around will miss a decently gripping thriller in the miniseries’ second half.
“Objects” lacks a consistent and comprehensible tone. It’s moody to a fault, and episodes languish as the camera lingers on the dilapidated, poverty-stricken town. Despite the importance of Wind Gap to the story, the series has very little sense of place.
Many aspects of Wind Gap are confusing and absurd. Teenagers roll around in old-fashioned roller skates and drink openly in bars; the town celebrates a holiday to commemorate a Confederate wife raped by Union sol-
diers during the Civil War. An episode randomly visits a methadone clinic as if trying to cling to some kind of social and political relevancy by name-checking the opioid crisis.
The series frequently relies on shaky camera movements, oppressively dim lighting and a dream-like atmosphere to muddle the timeline, which is at odds with the gritty realism of the script. “Objects” doesn’t so much paint a picture as willfully obscure one, tossing around visions of ghosts, violent sex and images of dead girls to try to tease a more tantalizing mystery than the one it offers.
The cast is the highlight of the series, especially Clarkson as Adora, the matriarch of a vast Southern estate who has a tumultuous relationship with her daughter Camille. Clarkson, often adorned in deliciously extravagant looks, luxuriates in her lines, imbuing them with haughty privilege and Southern hospitality. Adams is also strong as Camille, although the reporter isn’t exactly sympathetic. Hollywood loves stories of stunted man-children, male characters portrayed by the likes of Seth Rogen who are completely unprepared for the adult world. Camille is one of the few women-children, held back from growing up by deep-seated trauma.
With such a high pedigree, a nip here and an edit there could have made “Objects” masterful.
But instead it barely skates by. On vintage roller skates, of course.