Lowen Ashleigh, hired to ghostwrite for Verity Crawford, uncovers what appears to be Verity’s autobiographical notes. She wrestles with the confessions about Verity’s husband and finds separating fiction from reality challenging.
Chuck says:
I’d be hard-pressed to name a recent movie as silly as Michael Showalter’s “Verity,” but then again, that’s part of its charm, at least for fans of overwrought potboilers. The movie is an adaptation of a novel by Colleen Hoover, a popular purveyor of such dreck…wait, “literature.” The film moves, oblivious to how ridiculous it is, with a sense of confidence that’s commendable if ill-founded and as a result, sweeps you along, up to a point. Of course, where that point is varies with each viewer as some will be completely immersed in the dramatic aspects of the story, while others will see it as a unintentional comedy of epic proportions.
Lowen Ashleigh (Dakota Johnson) is at the end of her rope. The struggling author, though published, is gaining no traction where her career is concerned. About to be evicted from her closet of an apartment in Manhattan, she’s grasping at straws. Fortuitously, one happens to present itself in the form of a ghostwriting assignment. Unbeknownst to the public, best-selling author Verity Crawford (Anne Hathaway) has suffered a traumatic car accident that has left her paralyzed. Her publishers are eager to have a popular series she’s begun, finished. They’ve approached Ashleigh about taking over because she works in the same genre as Crawford. Recognizing a brass ring when she sees it, she grabs onto it.
Though her payday will be a big one, she doesn’t realize price she’ll have to pay to get it. Moving into the Crawford’s home, she soon finds herself attracted to Verity’s husband, Jeremy (Josh Hartnett), his effortless charm drawing her in. More troubling is reading the author’s unfinished manuscript, copious note and disturbing diary which reveal a disturbing dark side. Adding to her stress, she starts to think, upon observing her incapacitated employer, that perhaps everything isn’t quite what it seems where her “crippling accident” is concerned.
Any fun to be had with the film comes from the fact that, as outlandish as it is, the story is performed without a sense of irony. Playing it straight throughout, the three principals deliver sincere performances that only heighten the ridiculous nature of the movie. Hathaway seems to be having the most fun, playing to the hilt the heinous nature of her character, an ever-present evil gleam in her eye. If she had a moustache, I’m sure she’d have twirled it.
As a result, Johnson and Hartnett feel like also-rans though they do the best with what they have to work with. That their characters wind up together is the least surprising thing about the film. What is, however, is the lack of chemistry between them. The two actors go through the motions, and I’m sure they both had a good time doing so, but there’s nary a spark between them, resulting in the story’s sordid sexy sequences falling flat.
The third-act twist is a doozy, an impossible-to-predict, out-of-left-field-turnaround that has to be applauded for its audaciousness. In retrospect, it proves to be the most entertaining aspect of the movie. Yet, it comes too late and its repercussions go unexplored, the film ending on a narratively cruel, disappointing note.
Bad movies can be fun, and there’s no question “Verity” is engaging on that level for most of the time. Fans of Hoover’s novel will likely be pleased, while those who like real novels who’ve been drug to this film will lose count of the number of times they roll their eyes. If nothing else, you likely won’t be bored by the movie. You may walk out of it a bit dumber, but bored, not a chance.
2 1/2 Stars
