‘Verity’: Anne Hathaway, Dakota Johnson and Josh Hartnett Form a Charmless Love Triangle in Absurd Colleen Hoover Romp

Alci Rengifo

The first few minutes of “Verity” offer some slim hope that this could have been the first semi-decent adaptation of a Colleen Hoover page turner. Until now, the author’s work has mostly provided fodder for cheesy romances pretending to be about ever so deep themes. She is an heir to past fads like Nicholas Sparks. For a bit of its first act, “Verity” is enjoyable as a trashy take on the world of bestselling authors and the idea of the tortured artist. It all goes out the window once the wild twists and turns come into play, potentially inspiring more chuckles than gasps. Credit must be given to the cast, who try to play up the schlock to its full potential.

Lowen Ashleigh (Dakota Johnson) is a writer living in Manhattan who has been published but with little success. Her big break seems to appear when her agent Corey (Ismael Cruz Córdova) calls with the exciting news that Lowen is being sought out by mega bestselling thriller writer Verity Crawford (Anne Hathaway). A gruesome hit and run on the way to the meeting doesn’t dissuade Lowen, or the handsome guy (Josh Hartnett) who gives her a hand. Turns out that guy is Jeremy Crawford, Verity’s husband, who explains that his wife has suffered an accident leaving her unable to finish the latest edition of her most famous series. If Lowen helps write the new book, money and a much-needed breakthrough are promised. There is no way Lowen will turn this down, despite the nerves of taking on the voice of such a renowned author. To get her into the zone, Jeremy offers to host Lowen at the Crawfords’ lavish lakeside home. To her surprise, Lowen arrives to discover Verity is in a virtual vegetative state, sitting paralyzed in a wheelchair. They also have one small son, and are still reeling from the recent loss of a daughter. When Lowen starts digging into Verity’s files and unpublished manuscript pages, she begins to unravel much darker truths, etc.

Up to this point, “Verity” sort of works as an over-the-top escape with its spin on famous authors like Patricia Cornwell or James Patterson. Director Michael Showalter works with clichés that can also ring slightly true, like Lowen being published yet still living in a rundown apartment, her only bed being a mattress dropped on the floor. All this already raises “Verity” above past Colleen Hoover adaptations like the highly successful “It Ends With Us” and the insufferable “Reminders of Him.” Voiceovers by Hathaway have wicked charm in how she does gothic introspective monologues explaining how she writes prose that isn’t even that impressive. This is not a problem because, hey, with so many films made about literary icons or writers aspiring to write masterpieces, airport paperback wordsmiths deserve some love too.

It is when Lowen actually starts spending time at the Crawford home that the screenplay by Nick Antosca starts to unravel, either slowing down to a languishing pace or bordering on sheer comedy. Flashbacks to Verity’s days writing feature Hathaway doing a bizarre, wide-eyed stare in front of the computer, to pound the point across that she is “crazy.” Postpartum depression is a hinted theme, but this is not the way to explore it. Genuine chemistry is missing between Josh Harnett and Johnson, maybe because he especially doesn’t look like he believes the dialogue. Johnson is surely playing with us when she utters, “I have resting bored face.” Because their dinners and eventual sex scenes are so sleepy, the plot loses any hint of real danger. Even the chosen needle drops for erotic moments are too cheerful. Verity in comatose form also vanishes for most of the film, so she never becomes a truly menacing presence hovering over the cheating lovers. 

The third act then becomes a whole rush of off the rails developments. For whatever reason, Lowen tosses Verity’s confessional manuscript into a trash bin, only to grab it much later and find something shocking in the text. This is followed by another startling revelation, complete with a thunderstorm banging around in the background. Instead of suspense, you’re left pondering how long Anne Hathaway could remain so still and frozen in that wheelchair. There is one more revelation right at the end, where yet another confessional text has been inexplicably left under the floor board, with little reason. Verity, you really couldn’t have just told all that to Jeremy from the start? Why this movie was made is obvious, since there is little doubt Colleen Hoover remains a hot author. “Verity,” however, has no sizzle.

“Verity” releases Oct. 2 in theaters nationwide.