Sharp Objects

Sharp Objects turns out to be everything you might have wanted. And also some things you didn’t know you wanted: This eight-part HBO miniseries is a scary thriller, a Southern gothic melodrama, a serial-killer murder mystery, and a dual portrait of motherhood and sisterhood--all of it combined with a sleek ease that rarely lets any effort show.

Camille is literally covered in clichés (we’ll have more on her “Memento”-esque body stylings when spoilers aren’t a concern), but Adams is so subdued in every other measurable quality, her character never spills over into farce. ... Adams trusts her director and the writing, but she also trusts herself. Sharp Objects is a story told in flashes, but it’s always burning.

The show is Southern Gothic by way of Eugene O’Neill, indicting a culture and its myths without exoticizing them in the same way as, say, True Detective. But it’s also a tightly written thriller centered on women--on the damage they can do whether they redirect their trauma outward onto others, or inward onto themselves. ... The grisliness of the imagery, the aching damage in Camille, the delicate theatricality of Adora, the lovely danger of Wind Gap--all meld to make a series whose darkness is as alarming as it is undeniably enticing.

Everything Big Little Lies did to embrace, dignify, and elevate the soap opera genre’s female characters and tropes, Sharp Objects does with pulp mystery. ... Elegant, compulsively watchable.

Adams, with the support of executive producers Flynn, Noxon and Vallée and an extraordinary team of co-stars, makes Sharp Objects use Camille to weave a palpably dark parable about history’s impact, and how failing to confront its lasting damage traps us. Grim as this assessment may be, this also makes the drama one of the better offerings on TV right now--not a feel-good summertime story by any means, but one deserving of attention and worth seeing through to the finish.

Sharp Objects’s touch remains delicate throughout, thanks to its gifted lead, its beautiful writing, and, yes, its laser-sharp editing.

HBO’s wonderfully addictive eight-episode murder mystery based on the Gillian Flynn novel, is predominantly about character; the murder mystery is there to drive the captivating psychological profiles of the main characters. ... Clarkson is remarkable in the role. ... Adams carries the limited series beautifully with a quiet but jagged intensity.

Mesmerizing. ... There’s no cat-and-mouse game going on, no taunts from a genius criminal. Sharp Objects instead relies on internal drama and a transfixing Ms. Adams, who lays Camille’s ragged soul bare with sardonicism and self-loathing.

Throughout, Adams is a marvel, giving a performance like an open wound--after the damage has been done, but before it starts to hurt, right before the blood begins to well up.

On TV, Sharp Objects can't precisely capture Flynn's prose and the internalized descent into disorientation taken page-by-page, but series director Jean-Marc Vallee finds his own visual language that, driven by a ferociously wounded performance by Amy Adams, makes this eight-hour limited series haunting and riveting--both prestige and pulp.

With a cast led by Adams operating at the peak of her abilities, Sharp Objects is dazzlingly itself, a show in thrall to the horror of its premise but one that finds nuance within unremitting darkness. ... As a detective story, it’s top-of-the-line, and its detective, a reporter who’s too close to her story and far too removed from compassion and from a clear understanding of reality, is a character that will endure long after the mystery is solved.

Beautifully constructed by Vallée and Noxon, and unforgettably performed by an ensemble that seems destined for awards ceremony stages in the near future, this is a worthy follower to “The Night Of” and “Big Little Lies” in this new trend of HBO Mini-Series Obsessions.

With many men and women working hard to give off the appearance of a perfect existence while others still close their doors and turn a blind eye to the darkness that clings to the corners of Wind Gap, trauma and abuse have been allowed to continue in a cyclical pattern for years. It's unclear through seven episodes how and if that will ever change for the people of Wind Gap as a community, but perhaps by the end of the series Camille will at least have found the answers — and the strength — she needs to be able to finally put the horrors of her own life behind her.

Great performances from Clarkson and Scanlen help make the cold war at home more riveting than the slow burn of the murder mystery, but the pitch-perfect casting of Adams is Sharp Objects’ greatest asset.

The mystery's a slow burn, but Adams is a ravaged delight, soaking angry ghosts with vodka and rage. [6 Jul 2018, p.46]

A suspense tale that reveals a fine drawing of an unravelled protagonist. ... Adams conjures her woundedness without sentimentality. In a performance that is raw but understated, she elicits thrills and occasions sadness, at the center of a tale about a house haunted by itself.

Like its characters, Sharp Objects is not without obvious flaws, it's also not without impressive strengths. The cast, led by five-time Oscar nominee Amy Adams, is exceptional, making the deep pain and overwhelming angst of these characters both vividly real and incredibly fascinating.

As the title suggests, HBO’s new series cuts deeper when it dramatizes female-centric issues such as sexual assault, dysfunctional marriages and motherhood, making it both a more compelling and difficult watch.

Ms. Clarkson has too much dignity as an actress to go full Joan Crawford, which might have been an option. Instead, she delivers an icy, poisonous portrayal of a woman whose soul is in rigor mortis. ... Quite admirably, Mr. Vallée also uses the full depth of the frame in ways you don’t often see, and by doing this he provides us glimpses in the background of things that may mean everything, or nothing, or may just be metaphors.

Sharp Objects may not be compulsively watchable, but it’s much better than the “Gone Girl” movie, with its own sweaty, sensual, mesmerizing atmosphere.

Whenever Sharp Objects seems to be on the verge of spiraling into contrived pot-boiler absurdity (which is often, particularly in its latter half), the quicksilver filmmaking and Adams’s exact and understated lead performance pull it back.

Adams--as a woman who has pain written all over her--is the best reason to stick with Sharp Objects as it winds its way, sometimes a mite slowly, through twisted mysteries with deep roots.

For viewers--especially those who know what it feels like to have a complicated relationship with your hometown--it’s an acutely intense experience.

Sharp Objects is at no point fun, but is executed at such a remarkable level that it’s as thrilling as it is tragic.

The layered darkness that inhabits Flynn's work is the primary hurdle here, and fans looking for a captivating mystery with Gone Girl's twists and turns will be disappointed. Fortunately, for those willing to soak in the experience, director Jean-Marc Vallée (Big Little Lies, Dallas Buyers Club) allows for the slow burn required to inhabit Flynn's deeply personal corners.

The plot of Sharp Objects starts meandering again as it heads toward the finish. But the lack of narrative progress is a small frustration, because the characters are so well crafted. Adams reaffirms herself as one of the strongest American actresses. And HBO proves once again that patient storytelling is worth the investment.

Sharp Objects views Camille's assignment, and confrontation with her past, as a laudable, necessary undertaking. Perhaps because it's framed through Camille's perspective, the series is unrelentingly pessimistic. Yet beneath its grimness, Sharp Objects ultimately testifies to the triumph of survival, no matter how ugly or desperate a form it takes.

This show requires more patience, however, with its foggy path finally beginning to clear around episode three. But Sharp Objects sucks you in, making it hard to stay away from its curious world once you’re engaged.

The eight-episode series stretches its mystery to nearly unbearable lengths. ... It’s not as dense as Vallee’s “Big Little Lies,” but it does give its female cast meaty roles to savor. Clarkson gets the biggest slab, but Adams, Perkins, Scanlen and Lillis make the most of theirs. For them, it’s an acting banquet. Cut thinner, it might have been prime time prime.

Solving the crime is almost incidental to the lingering puzzle of Camille's clouded past. With prickly vulnerability, Adams brings poignant dimension to Flynn's pulp melodrama. [9 - 22 Jul 2018, p.12]

Aside from some slightly hammy subplots and the predictable snack of a red herring or two, those are my criticisms. In the same breath, I can’t deny that I charged through seven hours of Sharp Objects with an obsessive appreciation for the overall effort, propelled mostly by Adams’s effectively morose and complicated portrayal of Camille.

One can appreciate Adams’ performance, though, without buying into the overall endurance test required by Sharp Objects.

[Sharp Objects] is frustratingly opaque, and it moves like molasses. It’s such a slow burn, it nearly fizzles out. ... At the very least, it’s still an artfully shot showcase for some fine acting, which isn’t the worst thing in the world. But considering the big names involved and the promising source material, it can’t help but feel like a letdown.

Sharp Objects is a horror story of matrilineal dysfunction, a feminist series that reminds us that women can do anything, and it represents a new benchmark for series by and about women—that they too, can make pure, grim prestige television. ... Sharp Objects also seems to me to be utterly burdened by the clichés of prestige TV--if very likely to reap all of that format’s awards.

The first two Sharp Objects episodes take a slow-burn approach--too slow--but the pace picks up in episode three as Sharp Objects delves deeper into Camille’s back story and as Camille begins to connect with suspects in the case. That’s probably OK for fans of the novel, but for the rest of us, it’s a tough early slog in an era of myriad TV series choices.

Pacing issues undercut Adams, who presents a finely wrought picture of a woman who turns her anxiety in on herself with a ferociousness that leaves her scarred. ... Ultimately, the source material is not Flynn’s best work and shares little of the shocks and twists of her superior “Gone Girl.” Sharp Objects should leave more of a mark.

Sharp Objects transparently wants to be this year's "Big Little Lies," from its movie-star lead (Amy Adams) to the gauzy, washed-out tones and flashbacks employed by Jean-Marc Vallee, who directed both. The result, however, isn't nearly as compelling, focusing on a missing-girl mystery that actually plays second fiddle by a long shot to the protagonist's tortured personal odyssey.

Other than the discovery of a murder victim and a major reveal in the closing seconds of the seventh episode, almost nothing happens in Sharp Objects. ... The narrative creep notwithstanding, there are pleasures in Objects. Adams' performance is one of them.

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.