Caterwauling crustaceans are surely the preserve of Disney animations. However, I do know that director Olivia Newman's slow-burning film adaptation is off-key ...
When Chase is found dead at the base of a rusty fire tower, the finger of suspicion points at Kya and lawyer Tom Milton (David Strathairn) agrees to mount a robust defence. Cruelly ostracised by residents of the nearby coastal town of Barkley Cove, Kya sells sacks of hand-harvested mussels to shopkeeper Jumpin (Sterling Macer Jr) and his wife Mabel (Michael Hyatt) to put food in her belly. Catherine “Kya” Clark (Edgar-Jones) learns to fend for herself from the age of six in a ramshackle house on marshland where her father (Garret Dillahunt) routinely beats her mother (Ahna O’Reilly) until the bruised matriarch leaves, followed by Kya’s older siblings.
Do they sing? I suspect it's a poetic metaphor, something this film is positively awash with. Directed by Olivia Newman, produced by Reese Witherspoon, Where ...
After spotting Kya in the swamps, he teaches her how to read and write, and is amazed by her knowledge of nature, her skills as an artist. While saying nothing, she manages to hint at the pain involved in growing up despised, and on the outside of everything. It rests, like everything else in this flabby and overwritten film, on the surface, gliding along the smooth marsh waters and closely investigating nothing. Watching Where the Crawdads Sing, I was reminded of those fruity John Grisham adaptations that were popular in the 1990s, portentous thrillers with bog-standard plots and faux social consciences. He and his wife Mabel (Michael Hyatt) take Kya under their wing, but the girl grows up unschooled and wild, ignorant of social norms. But never mind about that, or any other buzzkill issues like domestic violence or racism or societal iniquity in the old south, because this is a fantasy, a silly melodrama with fluffy ecological overtones.
All roles and departments must work together in order for a project to thrive. For “Where the Crawdads Sing,” the film adaptation of Delia Owens' ...
We added film grain in post to enhance the lenses and push toward a period and timeless feel.” —Morgan When I was a teenager, I tried to read books and watch movies that felt important or that other people told me were classics. “There are so many voices that deserve to be heard, and audiences are craving stories that [come from] a diverse array of perspectives. I was really lucky to have a collaborator like Lucy Alibar who is from the South and really understood Kya’s story. It was very important to Delia to be incredibly authentic and incredibly accurate.” —Alibar When I read her adaptation, I could see she was really able to capture a lot of the lyricism that’s in Delia Owens’ novel. “Every studio draft I turned in went to Delia, and she was able to give notes. We wanted to have lyrical camera movement to enhance this palette, highlight the romanticism of the story, and employ crafted frames that could enhance the performance and help the viewer [feel the characters’ emotions].” —Polly Morgan, Cinematographer “During the height of the pandemic in New York City, I gave birth to a girl. “The central challenge of this adaptation is that the book is from Kya’s point of view, and cinematically, that becomes a whole different ballgame. “When Livi and I first spoke [about the film], we were united in our love for the book and Kya’s story. Here, the director, screenwriter, costume designer, and cinematographer share their accounts of how they brought this story to the screen and their best advice for other creators interested in breaking into their fields.
Begun in 2017, Reese's Book Club is a powerhouse literary discovery platform - and a way for the actress and producer to source worthwhile material for film ...
Even before the advent of Reese’s Book Club, however, Witherspoon saw the potential screen value in a number of adaptations of books by women. Even Meryl Streep, who joined the cast of Big Little Lies for its second season, called the show, which follows the complicated relationships between a group of mothers in Monterey, California, “the greatest thing on television”, and didn’t even read the script before accepting her role. Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng, the September 2017 pick, became a series for US streamer Hulu starring Witherspoon and Kerry Washington, while upcoming are the TV adaptations of memoir From Scratch by Tembi Locke for Netflix (a Book Club pick in May 2019), and Taylor Jenkins-Reid’s rock oral history Daisy Jones and the Six (March 2019’s pick) starring Riley Keough as the titular Stevie Nicks-alike. But its inclusion in Reese’s Book Club in September had an impact the following year: it managed to sell more than one million copies and gained rapid word-of-mouth momentum. What is more, in recent years, we have seen that Reese’s Book Club functions within Hello Sunshine as a way to source material, as selections are often later adapted into TV shows and films by the company, with Witherspoon herself as an executive producer. In the UK, US and Canada, women are responsible for 80 per cent of fiction purchases, so narratives that centre women have a guaranteed audience. Speaking to Variety in 2019, Sarah Harden, chief executive of Hello Sunshine, said “We don’t ever option books and sit on them. In 2014, she told Variety that she was extremely disappointed by conversations she had with film studios. Happily, she will soon branch out further. And while Oprah remains a tastemaker (her Book Club continues online, and recommends about four books per year, often to roaring effect on sales), these days there is another celebrity Book Club whose real-world impact reaches perhaps even further. In December 2021, Melissa Stapley’s novel Lucky was chosen as a pick. Although fiction tends to dominate, other genres and forms, like self-help or short stories, also appear.
Where the Crawdads Sing” is the adaptation of the 2018 best-selling novel by Delia Owens, and fans will appreciate this version, regardless of whatever ...
Plus, by the time we get to the inevitable twist at the climax, it’s sort of hard to care because we’ve been jerked around for so long regarding who murdered Chase. My verdict on this adaptation is that it’s a Southern-fried flick that audiences will love or hate, but I consider it to be one of the biggest botched opportunities of the year. Kya is accused of murdering her former boyfriend Chase Andrews (Harris Dickinson), and the whole town wants to see her suffer. To the movie’s credit, I give it points for Daisy Edgar-Jones’ earnest, committed performance, and there’s fantastic cinematography by Polly Morgan throughout.
Critic Bob Garver looks at "Where the Crawdads Sing." Could it be the start of a new series of literary adaptations?
Despite the strengths of Edgar-Jones, "Where the Crawdads Sing" is otherwise a mess. I can't say the movie does a great job of making her look like someone that has been beaten down by elements her whole life (similar to how I thought Ansel Elgort was too good-looking for his role in "West Side Story"), but everything she contributes to the performance, she nails. We had magic and fantasy with "Harry Potter," supernatural romances with "Twilight," dystopian ordeals with "The Hunger Games," and that weird trend of relationships complicated by increasingly rare diseases with "The Fault in Our Stars." I think this one is supposed to kick off a trend of adaptations of books about recluses. But there were a few well-wishers like Milton, the couple that ran the general store (Sterling Mercer Jr. and Michael Hyatt), and the studious Tate (Taylor John Smith). Kya and Tate enter into a relationship, but he breaks her heart. Kya is arrested and defended in court by angelic lawyer Tom Milton (David Strathairn, his Atticus-Finch-O-Meter turned up to 10). Milton makes mincemeat out of the incompetent prosecution's case, but there's still the matter of getting the jury on Kya's side. "Where the Crawdads Sing" is being pushed as one of those literary adaptations that kicks off a whole litany of adaptations.
The book has sold millions of copies, but is the film adaptation of Where the Crawdads Sing worthy of attracting millions of audience members?
And at over two hours in length, the film borders on self-indulgent in its storytelling, with its pacing needing a little refinement to really pop. Where an initially slow start leaves you relatively disinterested - questioning why you should care about the fate of this random person you’ve only just met - the decision to dive back into the struggles of Kya’s story is inspired; with each flashback, each reveal, each further exploration of her character, your empathy and interest increases, raising the stakes with each passing moment. Like the book, this is split into two separate stories - Kya’s childhood and personal life; Kya’s trial - with the film jumping back and forth between them, blending the narrative in an attempt to avoid losing the audience’s interest. Yet, for all the predictable pitfalls Where the Crawdads Sings falls into, an engaging storyline and some admirable performances from its cast - particularly rising star Daisy Edgar-Jones - mean this is more than just your usual straight-to-Netflix heartstrings-puller. Oh no, a big screen adaptation of a slightly saccharine best-selling novel - this is bound to have some unsettlingly sentimental scenes and plenty of on-the-nose dialogue, isn’t it? Maybe not, but it gives it a good old go nonetheless...
The adaptation of Delia Owens' bestseller has plenty of problems. The way it portrays older women is one of its biggest.
The film employs a child actress to play the younger version (Jojo Regina) of herself for most of the film, and for the last two minutes, we get to see an older actress (Leslie France) in the role. The last beat of the film makes no sense. I had to squint to get a glimpse of Kya in her 40s (bad), 50s (worse), and 60s (worst)—the film cuts between far-away shots of her during these periods quickly. Where the Crawdads Sing pays homage to the 70-plus-year tradition by asking “What if we caked hundreds of layers of fleshy foundation onto one of the most beautiful actresses of our time?” Orson and Winona will have to take Daisy to a therapy group session now that the movie’s out, joining in with all the other actors who have been massacred by fake wrinkles. I can’t describe what I saw in great detail, but I can give a slight taste of what I think I saw: Lines of wrinkles penciled on with reckless abandon. But there’s no way anything can top the soul-crushing, cheap, and completely implausible final sequence in the adaptation of Delia Owens' novel.
In 2018, biologist and author Delia Owens released "Where the Crawdads Sing," a murder mystery/romance interwoven with symbolism based on Owens' extensive ...
Likewise, given how much "Where the Crawdads Sing" focuses on the intricacies of courtship and mating, the concept of a sequel focusing on the mating pair's offspring is a natural next step. Author Delia Owens' star is still very much on the rise, as "Where the Crawdads Sing" is her first novel, and it's a nearly unprecedented literary success. In the end, "Where the Crawdads Sing" is a dense tangle of coexisting themes, a rich ecosystem of ideas that rely on and compete with each other for survival and dominance. Tate finds the shell necklace and a thinly-veiled confession from Kya after her death, and discards the shell, vowing to keep her secret. The last we see of Tate, also an old man, is him throwing the shell necklace into the Atlantic Ocean. Unlike Kya, he survives the film and may very well have more story to tell, especially if he was the murderer, or if an investigation is reopened. nurture" and the weight of the past. Kya is acquitted of murder, but leaves a message for Tate after her death that heavily implies she actually did murder Chase. Believing Kya to be the killer is one perfectly valid, evidence-based interpretation of the film's ending -– but there is another. It's possible that the shell-collecting Kya merely found the necklace after Tate attempted to dispose of it in the marsh and kept it hidden to protect Tate. That act of violent retribution on Tate's part may have even been the reason she suddenly took him back. Kya learns to become an insect herself, merging the best and most useful traits of the bivalve and bird to balance her happiness and survival. Though the film ends with Kya acquitted of murder charges and settling down for a pleasant life with her true love Tate, it also makes it abundantly clear to those paying attention that perhaps not all is as it seems. Throughout her abandonment by Tate, her abuse by Chase, her ridicule by the townspeople, and even her imprisonment, it's the tools Kya has learned from her father –- skepticism, isolationism, and stoic determination –- that allow her to endure. In 2018, biologist and author Delia Owens released "Where the Crawdads Sing," a murder mystery/romance interwoven with symbolism based on Owens' extensive knowledge of ecology and animal behavior.
Why is "Where the Crawdads Sing" author Delia Owens wanted for questioning for a decades-old unsolved murder in Zambia? We explain.
A 2010 New Yorker article by Jeffrey Goldberg titled “The Hunted: Did American conservationists in Africa go too far?” was the first to extensively detail the incident. At North Luangwa National Park in Zambia, the Owenses got caught up in the region’s poaching wars due to the widespread slaughter of elephants for their valuable ivory tusks. Mark Owens ran anti-poaching patrols, bringing teams of scouts into the bush to confront and stop poachers. In the spirit of famed primatologists Jane Goodall and Dian Fossey, the Owenses carefully studied and formed intimate bonds with their subjects, including lions and hyenas. “On this mission, we would witness the ultimate price paid by a suspected poacher,” anchor Meredith Vieira narrates over footage of a scout coming across an abandoned campsite, where he finds shotgun shells. After four years and more than 12 million copies sold worldwide, it’s now also a film produced by Reese Witherspoon, whose Hello Sunshine book club helped fuel the success of the novel.
English actor Daisy Edgar-Jones, who broke out with the 2020 miniseries Normal People, takes on her first major cinematic leading role in this adaptation of ...
As a teenager, Kya reconnects with a childhood friend, Tate (Taylor John Smith, from Kiwi director Roseanne Liang's Shadow In The Cloud) who teaches her to read and love blossoms. Growing up in the North Carolina marshes with an abusive father, Kya sees her family members desert her one by one, eventually leaving her on her own as a 12-year-old. As she awaits trial, Kya fills the audience in on her tragic backstory.
The storytelling veers between soap-opera cheese and middle-brow literary puffery.
But this really is meretricious hogwash of the feeblest dilution. None of the cast is bad. In one excruciating moment, she and the more kindly of the two hunk-clones spot a swirl of descending leaves and, spontaneously deranged, take to prancing around in the busy foliage. “Rhubarb, rhubarb, squirrel, rhubarb, rhubarb, grits, rhubarb, rhubarb, chitlings.” Details have been altered to avoid spoiling the largely predictable plot. Working from no evidence speak of, the cops arrest the young woman they call the “marsh girl”. We learn that Kya Clark, abandoned by siblings and parents, has grown up alone in a rundown house dappled by the light that filters through hanging Spanish moss. The younger male leads are so weirdly interchangeable — exercises in rural Stepford — that name tags should have been issued to help us tell them apart.
Where the Crawdads Sing is based on the bestselling book (by Delia Owens) that I picked up from one of those three-for-two tables at Waterstones and always ...
All the relationships are simplistic – I had to check it wasn’t a YA novel – and it’s clunkily directed by Olivia Newman. You never feel Kya’s connection to her environment, even though I’m guessing that should be of utmost importance. She described it as ‘one up from trash, like Bridges of Madison County’ and was invaluable because there were so many narrative gaps I needed filling in even if the answer was always the same: ‘There’s a lot more on that in the book.’ So why wasn’t it in the film? Represented by a kindly lawyer (David Strathairn), she recounts her life in the courtroom, while the jury gasps and we spool back in time. This is the 1950s and ’60s, so you’d imagine they’d have their own problems but here they exist solely to serve the hot white girl who is meant to be feral but always looks so crisply laundered. This tells the story of Kya (a painfully earnest Daisy Edgar-Jones) who, abandoned as a child, has brought herself up in the swampy wilderness of North Carolina and is charged with the murder of her ex-lover. The film is so cliché-ridden there’s a point where an entire courtroom gasps and I laughed.
WHERE THE CRAWDADS SING (15, 125 mins) Thriller/Romance. Daisy Edgar-Jones, Taylor John Smith, Harris Dickinson, David Strathairn, Michael Hyatt, ...
When Chase is found dead at the base of a rusty fire tower, the finger of suspicion points at Kya and lawyer Tom Milton (David Strathairn) agrees to mount a robust defence. Catherine 'Kya' Clark (Edgar-Jones) learns to fend for herself from the age of six in a ramshackle house on marshland where her father (Garret Dillahunt) routinely beats her mother (Ahna O'Reilly) until the bruised matriarch leaves, followed by Kya's older siblings. Threaded with timely issues of domestic violence and female empowerment, Where The Crawdads Sing struggles to generate dramatic momentum or suspense as a much-abused protagonist goes on trial for murder in a North Carolina courthouse which routinely doles out death sentences.