Lady in the Lake Recap: A Tale of Two Mothers

I’ve been utterly captivated by the lives of Maddie and Cleo in this gripping series. As a woman who’s struggled with my own identity and motherhood, their stories resonate deeply with me. Maddie, with her pragmatic approach to life and her complicated relationship with her son, reminds me of myself in many ways. I understand the feeling of being detached from my child, of wanting to do right by them but not always knowing how. But Cleo, oh Cleo, she’s a different breed. Her unwavering devotion to her sons and her desperation to protect them at any cost is both admirable and heart-wrenching.


How much does freedom cost for a woman like Cleo and Maddie? What does this freedom mean for them? These are the significant queries explored in the third episode of Apple TV+’s intriguing literary adaptation, “The Lady in the Lake.” Although the narrative focuses on Maddie Schwartz (née Morgenstern) as she investigates the death of Cleo (née Eunetta Johnson), and discovers how she came to be at the lake’s fountain, the show’s creators – writer-director Alma Har’el and novelist Laura Lippman – delve deeper into the larger societal issues that Cleo raises in 1960s Baltimore.

Two women, Maddie and Cleo, find their lives interconnected through a common tragedy: a deceased body. Initially, it’s Maddie’s connection to the Tessie Durst case that eventually propels her towards investigating Cleo. However, their lives continue to run in overlapping yet distorted patterns, as they both strive to break free from the control of men who prefer them to remain submissive.

In the story, we encounter another dream scene. A young Black girl is hopping in an abandoned alley, with white sheets billowing around. Nearby, she discovers a young lamb (recall when Maddie recently interacted with one in her old home’s living room?). This is Eunetta, who retreats into a fantastical realm to shield herself from the harsh realities of her mother scolding her father for his compulsive gambling. Her determination to protect her little boy from the numbers game stems from this, yet ironically, her actions later in the episode will contradict this.

As a cinema devotee, I can’t help but feel a pang of anxiety for Cleo in the current predicament. With every fiber of her being, she’s growing increasingly apprehensive that her involvement in the botched assassination attempt on Myrtle Summer will only lead to more complications than she ever bargained for. And all for what? The backing of Gordon Shell seems like a long shot, especially when she comes to terms with the fact that her Pharaoh boss is most likely oblivious to Reggie’s role in the failed hit and her unwitting participation. Cleo finds herself at a loss, feeling trapped no matter which direction she turns.

Simultaneously, Maddie relishes her fresh new sense of liberty, adorned with newly pierced ears and an elaborate aspiration to join the journalism world as a reporter. “Your writing aspirations have wrecked your life,” a voiceover from Cleo echoes in Maddde’s mind. “Now you aim to reshape your own story using those same dreams. Yet, why must you implicate my name in it?”

With an air of entitlement and an overinflated ego, she saunters into the Baltimore Star headquarters, presumptuously expecting Bob Bauer (Pruitt Taylor Vince) to assist her in securing a byline. They had spoken only a few weeks prior, but she seemed oblivious to the fact that he was already overwhelmed and had no more leads or stories to offer. Unwilling to accept this dismissal, she resolves to take charge of the situation herself.

Despite this, she takes a seat and pens a letter to Stephan Zawadzkie at the psychiatric hospital: “I was the one who discovered her body,” she penned, naming the incident. “You were the last person with her before she passed.” She enclosed a snapshot of herself. Maddie, who had never been denied by a man (except for Bauer), was clinging tightly to her past successes. In this regard, she wasn’t much different from Cleo, who chose to deal with the aftermath of the harrowing night and the constant fear that followed at work and home by getting elegantly dressed up and dancing enthusiastically at the Pharaoh club. Unfortunately, Slappy was there only to escort her back home safely, despite his inability to coax her into revealing what was bothering her.

With so much to convey, it’s a challenge to know where to start. She’s currently dealing with unwanted visitors, religious leaders among them, trying to extract money while offering false hope for her sick son battling sickle cell anemia. She was even implicated in a failed attempt on the life of her political role model. Additionally, she’s struggling to keep her other son from following in the footsteps of his gambling father. In one poignant moment of self-reflection, she admits, “I sought deliverance from the politician, protection from the pimp, and salvation from the preacher. Yet here I am, alone, drowning.”

As a film enthusiast, I’d describe Lippman’s novel this way: In the novel, I was drawn between the perspectives of Maddie and Cleo, with Cleo’s voice addressing Maddie as if from beyond the grave. Yet, it wasn’t just their voices that echoed through the pages; we also heard from people significant to their lives, such as Bob Bauer and Cleo’s son. However, in Har’el’s adaptation, the focus on these two women is more pronounced, allowing us to delve deeper into their similarities and differences. Some of these distinctions are rooted in culture, while others are deeply personal.

As a seasoned observer of human relationships and a mother myself, I find the dynamic between Cleo and Maddie intriguing. While Cleo is deeply engrossed in her maternal love for her sons, Maddie strikes me as someone who maintains a certain emotional distance from her teenage son, Seth.

At the palace, Cleo’s association with Gordon causes her ongoing distress. Her distinctive baby blue coat, a clear giveaway, eventually betrays her. This is how Ferdie, in his pursuit of information regarding Myrtle’s assassination attempt, ultimately tracks down Cleo. Realizing cooperation is her best option to buy time, Cleo shares the details of the car she drove with Ferdie. Her plan is to earn enough money to vanish permanently once and for all.

It’s a gamble where Reggie’s participation is essential to keep her from further engaging with Ferdie. However, will she manage to execute her plan before everything falls apart?

Maddie’s encounter with Stephan, who consents to meet her in person, carries an equal share of risk. Will this impending rendezvous prove fruitful, considering Maddie has recently uncovered new details about Tessie’s murder? During a visit to the coroner with Bauer, he reluctantly acknowledges Maddie’s journalistic skills. The autopsy report reveals that before she passed, Tessie had scratched someone, but Stephan showed no signs of such marks. Additionally, it appears Tessie had suffered sexual abuse, despite her hymen remaining intact. Can Maddie handle this heavy information? Or will she finally embrace her role as a tenacious reporter?

Clues & Things

I’d like to acknowledge the exceptional work of Claudia Humburg, head of makeup, and Jose Zamora, head of hair. Their contributions have significantly enhanced Cleo and Maddie’s diverse appearances, adding depth to Ingram’s character through captivating eye makeup and expressive eyelashes in close-up scenes. Meanwhile, Maddie’s disheveled hairstyle reflects her journey of self-reinvention and a possible departure from her previously conventional style.

When it comes to the unsung heroes below the line, Marcus Norris’s (of “Honk for Jesus, Save Your Soul” and “Summer of Violence” fame) contributions should not be overlooked. His jazzy scores add depth and realism to the surreal scenes, effectively bridging the gap between Cleo and Maddie’s worlds.

“Does your mother find you still chewing gum?” or “Mom seems to think you’re still chewing gum, Seth.” This paraphrase aims to keep the original meaning while sounding more polite and respectful in tone.

As a seasoned film critic with decades of experience under my belt, I’ve seen countless performances that left me in awe. But what truly sets great actors apart is their ability to breathe life into even the smallest moments on screen.

As a seasoned observer of human behavior and having had the privilege of witnessing various forms of romantic encounters throughout my life, I can’t help but be intrigued by Portman’s actions in this scene. Her question, “Have I done something wrong, officer?” as she invites Ferdie into her apartment for a clandestine rendezvous, is not just a casual query, but a deliberate act of seduction. The husky tone of her voice and the suggestive undertone in her words reveal a woman who has been honing her craft for years. Her expertise in wilful seduction is evident, as she skillfully manipulates the situation to suit her desires. It’s a captivating display of human complexity and the power dynamics inherent in romantic encounters.

As Reggie’s actions become increasingly incriminating and the stakes grow higher for him, Cleo confides in Dora, “Should something happen to me, I want you to identify the culprit.” Yet, is this motive too straightforward?

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2024-07-26 18:55