About the film (courtesy of Amazon MGM Studios):
Adapted from Colleen Hoover’s best-selling novel, this seductive, psychological thriller follows renowned author Verity Crawford (Anne Hathaway) and Lowen Ashleigh (Dakota Johnson), a struggling writer who relocates to the remote Crawford estate to ghostwrite for Verity. After Lowen uncovers what appears to be Verity’s chilling autobiographical notes, she wrestles with the disturbing and twisted confessions about Verity’s husband Jeremy (Josh Hartnett), and finds it hard to separate fiction from reality, manipulation from attraction, and opportunity from obsession.
Apparently, there is a reason to steer clear of melodramatic book-to-screen adaptations. It has just been a while, and the obvious trauma of sitting through synthetic melodrama was entirely buried until director Michael Showalter and screenwriter Nick Antosca offered a blunt reminder.
Based on Colleen Hoover’s best-selling novel, Verity stars Anne Hathaway, Dakota Johnson, and Josh Hartnett. Unfortunately, Hathaway, by far the most capable performer in the cast, spends the majority of her screentime employing blank, silent gazes or feigning sleep. Having suited up as Selina Kyle back in The Dark Knight Rises (2012), she might simply be channeling feline habits this time around. While Hathaway is serviceable enough in the role of injured author Verity Crawford, the material provides virtually nothing dynamic for an Oscar-caliber talent to chew on.
Meanwhile, Dakota Johnson summons her inner Anastasia Steele from Fifty Shades of Grey (2015) to portray Lowen Ashleigh, a struggling novelist brought in to ghostwrite the remaining entries of a lucrative book series. The breathy, whisper-quiet delivery and persistent lack of confidence wear thin right out of the gate. Rather than generating genuine tension, the performance feels detached, leaving Verity viewers to wonder whether the lead actress or the director’s pacing is primarily at fault.
Hartnett does not fare much better as the grieving husband, Jeremy. Having delivered far sharper genre work back in Penny Dreadful (2014), he gives a sincere go at things here, but the Verity character never has a realistic chance to excel. The romantic chemistry between Johnson and Hartnett feels manufactured, making the escalating stakes inside the Crawford estate ring hollow. On the whole, the performances fail to generate the necessary friction to propel what little forward narrative momentum exists.
Certain critical narrative beats from Hoover’s source material were altered for this screen version, and rarely for the better. Several questionable narrative pivots unravel whatever internal logic the suspense had going for it, yielding unconvincing and unintentionally comedic moments. Verity stumbles into an adaptation problem, landing squarely on the shoulders of the screenplay. Showalter demonstrated genuine narrative command with character-driven titles like The Big Sick (2017), yet here the transitions from domestic tension to psychological dread feel surprisingly clunky.
A psychological piece like Verity hinges on claustrophobic dread, yet unintentional audience snickering undercut several key reveals. It never threatened to ascend into the upper echelon of cinematic thrillers, but the production squanders plenty of runway to deliver a convenient, trashy good time. Readers of the source material will need to extend an enormous amount of grace, while casual moviegoers hoping for a gripping mystery are left grasping at straws.
If someone has two hours and twenty bucks to burn, Verity arrives in theaters on Friday, October 2nd. Skipping the ticket and waiting for streaming, however, remains the far wiser play.
