Verity

Director: Michael Showalter
Starring: Anne Hathway, Dakota Johnson, Josh Hartnett, Ismael Cruz Córdova, Brady Wagner, Irina Dvorovenko, K. K. Moggie, Michael Abbott Jr., Alex Cooper, Sean Evans
Running Time: 117 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★)   

In Verity, a wildly successful author of erotic mystery thrillers is left incapacitated, leading a young, up and coming writer to step in and finish her work. And it's hard to miss the irony that this popular series of novels would likely occupy similar airport terminal shelf space as any of Colleen Hoover's, or Freida McFadden's The Housemaid, the adaptation to which this will surely be compared. But that's not intended as knock on the genre since best sellers are best sellers, regardless of how many thumb their noses at them. Director Michael Showalter understands this, even when these characters doubt their chosen profession, self consciously insecure about every word they write, as so many authors are. 

If the goal is trapping these novelists in the kind of story they'd pen themselves, Showalter and screenwriter Nick Antosca achieve moderate success, infusing this with a cheesiness that distinguishes it from the last picture to bare Hoover's name. But unlike the infamous, somewhat underappreciated It Ends With Us, this production did manage to evade a litany of off screen legal woes. Also absent are any signs of a semi-believable relationship drama, which was probably the right decision given its frothy plot. Still, with all the mysteries this film serves up, the biggest one might be why it isn't crazier, or more fun. 

New York City based author Lowen Ashleigh (Dakota Johnson) is struggling to find a larger audience for her work while grieving the recent death of her mother. After hosting a sparsely attended book reading, she gets a call from her agent informing her that a prominent publisher is interviewing for a ghost writer to finish Verity Crawford's (Anne Hathaway) popular thriller series. Known for writing from the perspective of her villainous characters, Verity was recently involved in a car accident following the tragic death of her and husband Jeremy's (Josh Hartnett) young daughter. 

In a catatonic state and unable to communicate, Verity receives round the clock care from a full-time nurse and Jeremy, who's raising their son Crew (Brady Wagner) alone. While Lowen initially turns down the offer to finish Verity's work, the money and Jeremy's encouragement convinces her, as she temporarily moves into the family's secluded Vermont home to sort through the author's notes. But during this process she'll uncover a flash drive containing Verity's autobiography, which reveals some dark, shocking secrets. Reeling, an uncomfortable Lowen grows increasingly closer to Jeremy, suspecting Verity's condition isn't all it seems.

The film kicks off with an unusually exciting hook, with Lowen and Jeremy first meeting after a delivery cyclist is struck and killed by a car mere feet away, splattering her face and clothes with blood. She's on her way to that publishing meeting and he couldn't be more helpful, even as she remains unaware the meeting's with him. With a sales pitch already lined up, he attempts to convince Lowen no one else can finish his wife's series but her.  

Since Jeremy knows Lowen needs Verity's endorsement to consider taking on such a daunting endeavor, he finds a way to provide it without hesitation. It's a great opening, trauma bonding two characters through a presumably random encounter and their shared grief of losing a loved one. But there's also a hint of deception as they feel each other out, raising doubt in the minds of viewers looking for red flags when she arrives at the scenic lakeview property.   

As the pace slows to a deliberate crawl, you can't help but be reminded of what The Housemaid did better, if only because their setups are nearly identical. While that film delightfully pummeled us over the head with its unapologetic trashiness, this takes a more measured approach, often to its detriment. And since we already have a good idea what's bound to happen between Lowen and Jeremy and share her suspicions about Verity's health, we're left with this mystery manuscript as the narrative's smoking gun. 

Creeped out by Verity's wheelchair bound presence, Lowen suspects the worst while also questioning her own sanity, adding a thin supernatural layer to the proceedings. And because so much hinges on the autobiography, large pieces of plot are revealed via voiceover and flashbacks, right up until a pivotal twist that's followed shortly thereafter by an even bigger one. 

Dakota Johnson excels in more projects than she's given credit for, recently showing significant spark in The Materialists, which gave her a different kind of starring role she proceeded to knock out of the park. That said, this isn't one of her stronger outings, and while it's extreme to say she sleepwalks through it, she's definitely not the driving force behind the portions that succeed. And part of this stems from the nature of inhabiting a passive character who waits, watches and worries, save for the final act when she eventually jumps into the fray. 

Despite playing most of her scenes in Verity's vegetative state, Hathaway gives a more dynamic performance, especially during the flashbacks that show the compartmentalization required from an author writing in the voice of immoral, villainous characters. And in keeping us guessing whether she's one herself, Hathaway frequently elevates the script's approach to that promising concept. The always reliable Hartnett also holds up his end of the deal, with a quietly measured turn that keeps Jeremy's cards hidden as we speculate whether he's up to something.

After a promising start, the story settles into a routine as we patiently wait for two very specific events to unfold. And once its protagonist starts this new job, that countdown officially begins, moving past the predictable to land on a convoluted development requiring ten minutes of explanation. The silliness isn't a problem so much as its anticlimax, which may as well amount to a shoulder shrug about never really knowing who anyone is. Better directed than written, Verity contains some intriguing ideas about identity, but struggles to pick a lane, stuck somewhere between sleazy psychological thriller and contorted morality play.