Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Olivia Newman
Starring: Daisy Edgar-Jones, Taylor John Smith, Harris Dickinson, Michael Hyatt,
Sterling Macer, Jr., David Strathairn
Director Olivia Newman's
Where the Crawdads Sing is based on a hugely successful
novel of the same name, penned by Delia Owens. I know Owens is a
real person as she's currently embroiled in a controversy over a murder
in Zambia in the 1990s, but if the book is anything like the movie I
might have believed it was co-authored by Nicholas Sparks and John
Grisham. Where the Crawdads Sing borrows Sparks'
sun-dappled North Carolina setting and contains the sort of romantic
subplot that author is known for. Its other plotline is a very
Grisham-esque Southern courtroom drama, where kindly lawyers in white
linen suits try to save wrongly accused patsies from mob justice. These
two elements are so jarring that if Sparks and Grisham had indeed
co-authored the story, they certainly didn't get a look at each other's
chapters.
Daisy Edgar Jones, a rising English star with the look of a
young Charlotte Gainsbourg, is Kya, who is left to fend for herself as a
child when her entire family deserts their home in the marshes. Kya
manages to adapt to a life of self-sustenance quite well, though it's
mostly kept off screen so we don’t ask too many questions regarding the
practical aspects of an eight-year-old living alone in the woods. In
1969, a twentysomething Kya finds herself charged with the murder of
local football star Chase Anderson (Harris Dickinson), whose body
is found at the foot of a fire tower in the marsh. The case against Kya
is as flimsy as the movie's narrative – she's arrested because a red hat
is found in her home and the deceased had red fibres found on his
person. 17th century witch trials required more concrete evidence.
We spend little time in the courtroom and a whole lot of time watching
Kya's dual romances with Chase, whose initial charm quickly gives way to
violence, and nice guy Tate (Taylor John Smith), who teaches Kya
reading, writing and rumpy pumpy. Tate disappears for a few years and
comes back with no real reason for his absence. I mean, come on, the
narrative gift of the Vietnam War was right there!!! His disappearance
leads Kya into the abusive arms of Chase, while she becomes a published
author of conservation books, despite having literally just learned to
read and write a couple of months ago.
Where the Crawdads Sing is a big bucket of Southern fried
clichés. The white folks are hanky waving, bigoted assholes, except for
the book learnin' liberal lawyer (David Strathairn), while the
black folks are benevolent, represented by a couple of Bible quoting
store owners (Sterling Macer Jr, Michael Hyatt) who come to a
business arrangement with Kya whereby they purchase her freshly dug
clams, which apparently is enough to keep her in food and clothes. A
subplot the movie seems to forget about sees Kya dodging social
services, who are rightly concerned about an eight-year-old girl LIVING
ALONE IN A FUCKING MARSH. We're supposed to view them as villains who
want to take away her freedom. It's a lot like those stories American
media loves to portray where six-year-old kids are forced to establish
lemonade stall franchises to pay for their mother's cancer treatment.
Hardship seems cute to those who have never experienced it.
It's difficult to figure out what audience
Where the Crawdads Sing is aiming for. Its romantic
subplots, complete with magic realist swirling leaves, feel designed to
set the pulses of bookish pre-teen girls racing, but its grittier
elements, including gendered violence and sexual assault, are unsuitable
for such an audience. The result is a movie that's too silly for adults
but too gruelling for kids.
Jones' doe-eyed performance goes some way to distracting us from how
nonsensical the whole affair is, and she really is a star in the making.
It's impossible to believe in the character of Kya as a young woman who
has spent her formative years living like Tarzan of the marsh. But
despite her implausibly fresh-faced features, Jones manages to sell us
on her character's turmoil to the point that when things go well for her
we're genuinely happy for her, and when things go bad, we're
disappointed. The movie doesn't deserve such an empathetic performance,
but Jones' talents only go so far. Ultimately
Where the Crawdads Sing sinks in a marsh of
preposterousness.
Where the Crawdads Sing is in
UK/ROI cinemas from July 22nd.
