Perfunctory Thriller The Marsh King’s Daughter Bogs Daisy Ridley Down
It’s never a good sign when a “thriller” is less than thrilling. The Marsh King’s Daughter started out as an original novel written by Karen Dionne in 2018, featuring a cracking good premise about the lies and secrets that a survivalist father keeps from his young daughter. Director Neil Burger has translated the book to film and, instead of edge-of-your-seat tension, The Marsh King’s Daughter can’t seem to get out of neutral. While the first third establishes the premise with a lot of promise and a compelling backstory, the rest of the film can’t rise above perfunctory cat-and-mouse dynamics that lack urgency and emotional stakes.
In keeping with Dionne’s book, The Marsh King’s Daughter focuses on the harrowing, singular experience of Helena Pelletier. Raised in the remote riverlands of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, 12-year-old Helena is a whiz in the woods. The only child of an emotionally distant mother (Caren Pistorius) and a doting mountain man father, Jacob Holbrook (Ben Mendelsohn), Helena spends all of her time living off the land. Bonding with her father means absorbing his intricate lessons on effective hunting, abiding by his singular rule of protecting their family and navigating his mercurial temper. Success engenders his warm praise, and the reward of hand-drawn ink tattoos that commemorate her moments of achievement—or failure. It’s only when an outsider accidentally stumbles into the perimeter of their cabin that Helena’s entire world is shaken.
Her reserved mother screams for the man’s help, asserting that they are being held against their will. The only world Helena has ever known turns out to be a lie. She was born and raised in captivity with her kidnapped mother, and their escape turns her bucolic life upside-down.
After a brutal separation from Jacob when he’s arrested, he promises that he’ll find Helena, and the story jumps ahead two decades. Adult Helena (Daisy Ridley) is a shadow of her passionate younger self. She’s got a boring accounting job, beloved daughter Marigold (Joey Carson) and loving professor husband Stephen (Garrett Hedlund). But Helena slinks along the fringes of normal society, hiding her copious tattoos from curious eyes and avoiding social engagements like the plague. It’s like she’s never seen a day of therapy in her life, which doesn’t make much practical sense as she’s certainly had the resilience to carve out a new life. But her actions make it impossible to buy how she’s managed to do so. Burger directs Ridley to play Helena with such emotional vacancy that it’s hard to tell if she even likes Stephen, much less loves him. It’s baffling why you’d cast an actress as naturally emotive and expressive as Ridley, then strip her of her greatest strengths.