Natalie Portman’s ‘Lady in the Lake’ Falls Short and Feels Pretentious

Photo Illustration by Thomas Levinson/The Daily Beast/Getty/Apple TV+

Boldness is often a storytelling virtue, except when it’s not, as demonstrated by Lady in the Lake.

This adaptation of Laura Lippman’s 2020 best-seller, which draws inspiration from Raymond Chandler’s classic, sees director Alma Har’el take on a seven-part Apple TV+ period-piece murder mystery. Premiering July 19, the series indulges in considerable embellishments, symbolism, dream sequences, and cross-cutting that quickly overwhelms the senses. The plot’s convoluted nature and nonsensical elements aren’t saved by these creative choices. Natalie Portman leads with a performance as exaggerated as the rest of the production, which ultimately struggles to find its footing by the finale.

At Baltimore’s 1966 Thanksgiving Day parade, a Jewish girl named Tessie Durst (Bianca Belle) disappears after visiting a fish shop. This event quickly becomes front-page news and particularly affects Maddie Schwartz (Portman), an observant Jewish housewife. Her dress is ruined after a visit to the butcher, leading to a chain of events starting at a department store where she buys a dress worn by model Cleo Sherwood (Moses Ingram), firmly connecting their stories.

Natalie Portman

Apple TV+

The narrative establishes that Cleo is the woman referred to in the title, setting a complex and exasperating tone for the show. Frustrated with a chauvinistic husband and a cruel child, Maddie abandons her family and moves into an all-Black neighborhood with the help of Judith Weinstein (Mikey Madison).

This radical decision leads to more impulsive actions, such as engaging in a relationship with Black police officer Ferdie Platt (Y’lan Noel), illegal in Maryland at the time, and pursuing a journalism career she set aside due to societal expectations. Flashbacks hint at Maddie’s dark past, but they ultimately serve to underline themes of antisemitism and racism rather than influence the plot significantly.

The concurrent tale follows Cleo, who faces a crisis of her own. Working at a nightclub for crime boss Shell Gordon (Seth Davis), she juggles tending bar, managing the local numbers racket, caring for a fatally ill son, and dealing with a deadbeat husband, wannabe comedian Slappy (Byron Bowers).

Cleo’s life intertwines with Maddie’s investigation into Tessie’s death, culminating in a series of dangerous and implausible events. Maddie manipulates a pen-pal relationship with the initially accused Polish fish store employee, Stephan Zawadzkie (Dylan Arnold), leading to perilous situations involving crime plots and Cleo’s ultimate demise.

The show’s complexities are bogged down by excessive motif-heavy flashbacks and fantasy sequences that complicate rather than clarify. Har’el’s direction fails to let scenes breathe, relying on stylistic choices to fill the narrative gaps.

Portman’s portrayal of Maddie is unsubtle and exaggerated, making her character appear irrational and overly ambitious. Meanwhile, Ingram’s Cleo is stifled by the show’s implausibility and excess. While attempting to draw parallels between the struggles of Jews, Blacks, and women in the 1960s, the narrative often feels contrived.

Moses Ingram and Byron Bowers

Apple TV+

Maddie and Cleo are depicted as kindred spirits whose paths cross amidst their pursuit of desired lives. However, the series appears more fascinated with its own stylistic flair than the actual ordeals of its protagonists.

This becomes glaringly apparent in the final episode, where a collection of surprising revelations attempt to resolve the story too neatly. Despite its solemn tone and compromised resolutions, the conclusion exposes the series as a high-gloss fairy tale rather than a serious socially conscious noir.

Source: The Daily Beast