Apple TV Plus' Lady In The Lake is a total mess

Nothing about Lady In The Lake feels lived-in. Its frenzied world and the over-the-top characters who populate it are very much part of a Glossy Streaming Television Show, with nary an attempt to make anything appear immersive. In the premiere, a character yells some version of “What the hell is going on here?” a few times, echoing the dissonance and frustration a viewer might experience.

The Apple TV+ series, which kicks off July 19, is based on Laura Lippman’s 2019 novel, although there are considerable changes to the suspense. Everything about this adaptation—messy direction and jump cuts, loud and punctuated background score, exaggerated performances, lots of surrealism—is pieced together to tell you exactly how to perceive each scene. There’s no trust in the audience to understand the complexity and problems faced by two women trying to independently thrive in ’60s Baltimore. In fact, the potent setting ultimately has little to no impact because it’s barely fleshed out.

The endeavor to be evocative without prioritizing an emotional core is Lady In The Lake’s immediate downfall. The show opts for melodrama instead of noir thrills, letting its protagonists scream and argue instead of sensibly converse, as if that’s the only way to make an impact. Almost every sentence ends with a breathy delivery—Natalie Portman has set a record for the number of histrionic exhales she makes here. From beginning to end, Lady In The Lake is a harrowing experience, just not in the way it was intended.

Created by Alma Har’el, the seven episodes carry her signature style of vivid, fanciful imagery to propel the narrative (think whimsical dreams, dance sequences, close-ups, and lighting changes). It’s a distinctive approach, to be sure, as seen in her former work like Bombay Beach. The visuals here could’ve worked as an insight into the psyches of Maddie Morgenstern (Portman) and Cleo Johnson (Moses Ingram). Except the show overdoes it, becoming exhausting whenever the soap opera-like music comes along, ready to thump us on the head with another reminder that serious drama is unfolding. Even the episode titles are irksome. (The fourth installment, for example, is called “Innocence leaves when you discover cruelty. First in others, then in yourself.”)

Lady In The Lake tries to explore how Maddie, a suburban Jewish housewife, and Cleo, a Black mother struggling to escape a shady career, couldn’t be more different. Yet their issues are parallel. They’re both underestimated by their loved ones because of their gender and societal prejudices. They’ve long forgotten their ambitions but now push forward to rediscover their goals. Maddie pursues investigative journalism, leaving her ungrateful husband and teen kid to do so. Cleo, meanwhile, strives to climb up the ladder and earn the trust of her criminal boss in order to financially support her sons. Their paths connect sporadically because they live in the same city, but it’s only when—spoiler alert—Cleo’s body is discovered at the bottom of a lake that Maddie takes an interest in her. She seemingly wants to solve the case to tell Cleo’s story, but it’s primarily to advance her writing career after she gets a job at a newspaper.

Don’t expect this to be the next Mare Of Easttown, Sharp Objects, or even Desperate Housewives. Lady In The Lake is a pretentious mess unconcerned about its mystery or the inquisition into it, let alone cultivating its two leads. Lippman’s book at least provided context, backstory, a grounded location, and a steady pace. There, the characters felt like real people; but that’s a key courtesy not extended to anyone on the show. Even the supporting figures are one-note, like Cleo’s coworkers and Maddie’s family. Her son, Seth (Noah Jupe), practically bullies her the whole time. (Kim Bauer from 24 now has a strong competitor in the angry, annoying teen category.)

A huge selling point of the book was how it gave a voice to oft-forgotten true-crime victims, usually people of color, with the help of Cleo’s narration. She gets a voiceover here throughout to depict how she views Maddie’s white-savior complex and interference, which threatens to shake things up for her family after her death. It’s a powerful but superficial tool because Lady In The Lake doesn’t wield it well as it’s distracted by Maddie’s internal dilemma. An entire later episode concerns her graphic, drawn-out, flamboyant dream (nightmare?) about the legacy Maddie leaves behind. So yeah, the show wants to have its cake and eat it too.

Ingram imbues Cleo with vulnerability and grit, churning out excellent work despite Har’el’s clumsy, manic direction. Insecure’s Y’lan Noel, who plays a Black police officer drawn into Cleo and Maddie’s universe, is also a standout as Ferdie Platt, a notable book character not given proper development here. But they’re the only saving graces, as everyone else onscreen feels wasted. Portman, in particular, gives a clear-cut, Emmy-baiting performance that’s honestly tough to sit through after a while.

What’s annoying about all of this is that under the show’s messy, overambitious surface is a critical, important story. Har’el, who directs all the hourlong episodes, makes the show visually absorbing but even that quickly gets old. At least there’s a sense of closure by the finale, but godspeed to those who decide to follow this dreadful journey to the end.

Lady In The Lake premieres July 19 on Apple TV+