“Sharp Objects” nearly crosses the finish line unscathed

So much of Sharp Objects is about mood and suspense that it almost feels as if there isn’t much of a plot at times. Maddeningly glacial, it’s a testament to the show that it manages to keep the viewer’s attention through strength of performance and interesting flashcuts, always teasing a hidden trauma hiding just beneath the surface.

When the seeming final plot twist occurs, real meaning is pulled from our protagonist’s journey, the overall theme of overcoming trauma reaching a logical conclusion.

If only that is how it actually ended.

Created by Marti Noxon off the book by Gillian Flynn (who assisted writing the show), Sharp Objects follows reporter Camille Preaker (Amy Adams), a broken soul who is sent back to her hometown by her editor, Frank Curry (Miguel Sandoval), to investigate the murder of two teenage girls. Her wary and aloof parents, Adora (Patricia Clarkson) and Alan (Henry Czerny), are distrustful of her ability to stay out of trouble, her booze and past history of cutting strong in their minds. Liaising with Detective Richard Willis (Chris Messina) and steering clear of Chief Bill Vickery (Matt Craven), Camille navigates a treacherous town full of deceptive characters (Taylor John Smith as John Keene, Madison Davenport as Ashley Wheeler, Elizabeth Perkins as Jackie O’Neill, David Sullivan as Chris) while coming to terms with her own tortuous past.

The tone of the show varies from mystery to thriller to horror with great ease, Camille’s journey bouncing in and out of tragic to horrific. Adams’ portrayal is somber and heartbreaking, her spirit always just on the edge of crumbling, but managing to carry on. Camille is an addict, a survivor of child abuse and rape and a sufferer of depression; it’s a brave performance that bares her soul.

There’s an interesting allusion to Southern resentment latent throughout the narrative, with a bizarre ceremony called Calhoun Day overtly symbolizing a pathetic attempt at regional pride. Silent racism is omnipresent in the town, an angry psychosis that bubbles just beneath the surface of so many characters.

More of a character study than a standard mystery, Camille’s plotline moves smoothly from wayward child mournful over a lack of childhood approval to strong motherhood figure. There’s a plot twist in the last 5 minutes of the show that reverses that, a regretful attempt at shock and surprise that muddles Camille’s story. While giving a final jolt, it doesn’t really contribute to the narrative and reduces the strong emotional effect of the building plot.

An interesting story from the author of Gone Girl and The Girl on the Train, Sharp Objects is a powerful narrative that falters just as it reaches the end, a nearly unified story of overcoming young trauma.