Helena (Daisy Ridley) lives an idyllic life with her husband, Stephen (Garrett Hedlund), and their daughter, Marigold (Joey Carson) in the Michigan suburbs not too far from the open wilderness where Helena grew up.  She harbors a dark secret, though, a troubled upbringing at the hands of her rigid father Jacob (Ben Mendelsohn) and distant mother (Caren Pistorius).  Ultimately removed from Jacob’s care after the man was imprisoned, when he later escapes during a transport decades later, the life which Helena had worked so hard to put behind her comes stalking back toward her, putting her and her family in danger. 

Neil Burger directs The Marsh King’s Daughter from an Elle and Mark L. Smith penned script which they adapted from Karen Dionne’s 2017 novel.  Brought to screens from Lionsgate, the thriller peddles in many of the expected tropes as it chases after the high water mark left behind most recently by David Fincher’s Gone Girl (2014) in so far as summer page-turners to box office thrillers are concerned, and aided by a strong cast it does hit some of its goals.  Unfortunately, it is never able to shake its origin as a novel and the script relies far too heavily on voice-over to convey any of the deeper messages and themes of the story. Further, Burger directs Naomi Geraghty’s editing to constantly cut back to certain images instead of trusting that his audience can follow the rather simple narrative. 

Opening in an extended flashback, the film chronicles a young Helena (Brooklynn Prince) who follows her father around earning her the nickname “Little Shadow.”  In awe of his outdoorsmanship, the two prowl the woods tracking and hunting deer while Helena learns valuable lessons that will clearly be useful to her later on in life.  It is all setting up for a showdown between her and her father later on in life, and while the film cannot be faulted for following basic storytelling principles, it can be faulted for employing them in the most basic and rudimentary way.  There is no surprise here, and if audiences miss any detail, it will surely be highlighted and called back to right before it comes back into play so that those who have been keeping track are instead being talked down to.  This obsession with explanation telegraphs any of the twists and reveals far ahead of their payoff so that the film becomes a thrill-less thriller.  For what it is, the triptych between Prince, Hedlund, and Pistorious make this otherwise derivative opening act enjoyable enough to watch but there is much to be desired when it comes to depth; none are able to really elevate the material or breathe interesting life into it. 

After about 20 minutes or so, the film jumps forward allowing Ridley to take over as the title character for the remaining 88 minutes.  She does what she can, but Helena is such a strangely written and conceived character that the role is pretty much unsalvageable from the page.  She operates surrounded by mystery, but the mystery never builds more than her acting a little strange around people and technology or getting flighty when people ask her about her tattoos.  Further, Ridley is given next to nothing to build an actual character around. She is really just there biding time until she can go back into the woods for the finale.  In that way, all her development and growth was handled in the prologue and Ridley is stuck with the short end of the stick in a lame-duck conclusion.  

The ending fails because Jacob is not a real threat as he sulks and stalks through the wilderness after Helena.  What is supposed to be both sentimental and frightening as he continues to call his grown and estranged daughter his “little shadow,” the affectionate nickname from her youth, just comes off as mildly creepy and majorly annoying given just how much he uses the name again to make sure audiences never forget how much she adored her father as a youth.  His backstory leaves much to be desired as well. He is clearly a skilled outdoorsman, but his reputation as “the marsh king” is questionable. We know next to nothing of his crimes aside from abducting Helena’s mother and taking her to live with him in the woods in a cabin that is easily found yet somehow police had not stumbled upon it in the decade or so that he was apparently ruling the marsh. There is an indication that he was tied to some kind of drug trade or other wider criminal web, but he’s still a foot soldier and not the kingpin so he is going out into town and still somehow evading capture.  Nitpicking aside, his prowess in the wilderness is based more on adages than a true show of skills because the memorable little sayings are easier to work back onto the narrative than showing his competency.  This allows the script to again fall back on voice-over in a clumsy game of cat and mouse between a master and apprentice.  Ultimately, though, Jacob is an antagonist simply because he has been propped up by the script to be as such; we hardly see anything really frightening or ferocious from him outside of a few broad-stroke actions.  A dull thriller with a disappointing villain makes for little more than a muddy slog. 

The Marsh King’s Daughter is an interesting, albeit self-important, concept that never quite capitalizes or expands on what makes it good.  Ridley is completely held back by a dull script, the location is never explored enough to feel truly unique, and the supporting narrative around the main events are not fleshed out or fully realized.  As an adaptation, the Smiths seem a little too reliant on the freedom of introspection that the page provides and are afraid to trust audiences to absorb the details needed to follow this – admittedly – simple plot. It is peddling in this modern version of a fiercely empowered femme fatale, and while it is nice to see a broadening slate of roles, few scripts can match the danger and allure of the classics. Unique stories, even ones culled from IP, are being written and directed from the boardroom to stretch into every possible audience facet and The Marsh King’s Daughter is just the latest title in a growing slog of paint-by-numbers thrillers carefully crafted to appease the shareholders in the pitch, but in practice it is devoid of any identity that will allow for true engagement with its audience.