SHARP OBJECTS “Closer” (S1E5): Another Great Episode But Not Without Frustrations

I’m starting to wonder whether Sharp Objects ever plans on solving its murder mystery. With Closer, the fifth episode in the eight-part series, there seems to be little new in the way of narrative development and general progression towards a conclusion, with the show still hesitant in casting meaningful aspersions or major plot advancements beyond idle townfolk gossip and seemingly blatant misdirection.

While it still remains a highly compulsive, enthralling show with more than enough to keep audiences interested, in terms of character, visuals, and performances, it’s a touching frustrating that we are seemingly no closer to discovering the truth of the Wind Gap killings.

With the relationship between the Preaker women becoming even more fraught, the residents gather for Calhoun Day: an annual Southern-pride festival hosted by Adora on the grounds of her house. Bringing together the community at their most broken, with suspense flaring and a potential killer (or killers?) still looming over them, those looking to solve the case examine the townfolk in what should be a more relaxed setting, searching for anything out of the ordinary to further the investigation.

Character over narrative

In another move to prioritise character over narrative, Closer takes time to contextualise the town and its people, uncovering deep-seated folklore that paints a more detailed picture of Wind Gap. For an episode that starts as a much more intimate affair – culminating in a horrifyingly uneasy sequence that will provoke a physical reaction from the most steadfast viewer – Closer is a real pressure cooker of an episode that builds and builds and builds, seconds away from boiling over at any moment. Always on the edge of calamity, the production team do an impressive job of prolonging that discomfort to almost excruciating lengths.

Scott Brown’s screenplay may hold back on story progression but he does a fantastic job in mastering the atmospheric agitation of a town on the edge, to scintillating effect. Yet again, and undeniably indebted to Gillian Flynn’s source material, the dialogue is one of the series’ more underappreciated elements: it’s scorching and impeccably written, from Adora’s foreboding warning of Camille ‘a rare rose but not without thorns’ Preaker to a heart-stopping conversation between the two on the veranda that commands such a deafening silence that you could literally hear a pin drop. From its confederate takedown (“silent racism”) to the blood-soaked effigy Calhoun Day has formed around, it is clear that the focus is more on the town as a character opposed to the murders; despite the niggles that are beginning to settle in with its pacing, it works and keeps you hooked.

A suitably, anxiety-riddled tone

In alignment with the rest of the series, most of the information stems more from the details in the flashbacks than the dialogue of the present. When an old face recalls a particularly nasty memory for Camille, it’s the (impressive as always) team of editors who help connect the characters: it delivers the information we already know but with a touch more clarity, unfurling in a traditionally slow-burn fashion.

Jean-Marc Vallée’s direction maintains a suitably, anxiety-riddled tone as we mill around the Wind Gap residents; the killer is (more than likely) among those on Adora’s front garden and that’s a thrilling notion to have lodged in the back of your mind.

Amy Adams‘ tour de force performance unsurprisingly continues, with one scene occurring even before the first advertisement slot that makes you physically squirm. With all her might, weeks – nay, years – of repressed frustration and anger come pouring out in a moment that emotionally shatters and devastates. It’s remarkable that episode after episode, Adams intensifies the performance, scaling it to new heights time after time.

Closer contains some of her best work to date, alongside reliably tremendous work from Patricia Clarkson. Her every sentence is dressed prettily but disguising bile, and it’s delivered note-perfectly. “It’s why, I think, I never loved you (…) I hope that’s some comfort for you” – yikes!

In Conclusion: Sharp Objects’ Closer

Closer is the weakest episode of a brilliant bunch but one still packed with fantastic character work, shattering performances and a plethora of seemingly minor details that probably gives away more than it lets on. Narrative progression still appears to be the last thing on Sharp Objects‘ mind, but it is in serious need of some advancement in the next hour; with just three hours of the series left on the clock, it would be nice to see an end in sight.

After the previous episode’s closing moments lit the fuse, Closer is content on letting it burn – the explosion may just have to wait until next week. I really pray it arrives heading into the final stretch.

How did Closer measure up for you?