THE STORY – A happily married couple faces a growing threat when a notorious killer from their past, Max Cady, is released from prison and seeks revenge.
THE CAST – Javier Bardem, Amy Adams, Patrick Wilson, Joe Anders, Lily Collias & CCH Pounder
THE TEAM – Nick Antosca (Showrunner/Writer)
On paper, it isn’t entirely shocking that in this day and age, a film like “Cape Fear” has now been scooped up into the machine that turns beloved films into a long-form season of television. At least to the credit of this production, Martin Scorsese, who directed the 1991 film adaptation, returned to executive produce alongside Steven Spielberg’s Amblin Entertainment. The ensemble itself isn’t bad either, led by a very starry trio featuring Javier Bardem, Amy Adams, and Patrick Wilson. There’s more than enough here to pass the eye test, yet why does the series at every turn remain a reminder of why this practice more often than not ends up being a misguided creative venture? “Cape Fear,” even in its attempts to bring something it deems refreshing, only devolves into a vacant reimagining, if we could even call it that.
The premise of “Cape Fear” has remained virtually the same since John D. MacDonald’s original novel, “The Executioners,” back in 1957. MacDonald’s Southern Gothic tale of calculated castigation revolves around the grand plans of the criminal Max Cady, played by Bardem in this series, whose unfair incarceration for a murder sets him on a path of humiliation towards those he deems responsible, the Bowden family. While the films mainly anchor the Bowden family through the patriarch of the family, in this case, Tom, the attorney whose mishandling of Max’s case is solely responsible for his incineration, the series makes this transgressive act of deceit something shared between both Tom and Anna Bowden (played by Wilson and Adams), who are successful attorneys in their own right. This change alters the entire familial drama and, more so, how Cady angles his seeds of deceit to tear the Bowden family apart. It also, frankly, propels Anna from a traditional housewife to the center of the drama, especially when a performer of Adam’s caliber is in the lead role. It may be the one change that improves upon the previous iterations, until it doesn’t.
Showrunner and writer Nick Antosca’s vision for the series is excessive, turning a straightforward psychological thriller into an exploration of trauma spanning generations. It’s a regurgitated lens to cast the audience’s vision through, and it doesn’t help that the entirety of the aesthetic in which this series is modeled after is wholly in the vein of Scorsese’s film, which, to many, is their first introduction to this story. The iconic theme, the info-red long zooms, etc., are all replicated to a T in almost every episode. The writing is really what holds back “Cape Fear,” as it inflates the domestic disputes, especially with both children, which seems more like a way to artificially prolong a limited story so it can stretch beyond the runtime of a feature film. It’s also nowhere near as interesting having the dynamic between both Bowdens and Cady engage in this far more calculated dance that only waters down the simmering tension between the two parties.
Bardem is the only one here trying to make a meal of what’s given to him. His performance, if anything, shares more similarities with Robert Mitchum’s version than with Robert De Niro’s. The appearance of Bardem’s Max Cady certainly ties him to De Niro’s version, as he reps the tattoos and fashion choices suited to the punishing heat of the American South. Yet, Bardem’s version is far more educated than his predecessors, swapping the uneducated and inherently sinister nature of Max for a far more dashing and deliberate antagonist.
There are flashes of Max’s time in prison, revealing the depravity we have come to know the character for, mostly through the 91’ film, yet Max here is a victim of the “criminal injustice” system as described in the series. It’s a take, despite Bardem’s best efforts, that doesn’t transform his depiction of Max into a disruptive force any less all-consuming. The harshness cemented by Scorsese’s film is evident at times. The intent to portray Cady as some sort of rightful mastermind rather than as this unavoidable embodiment of wickedness undersells what makes him such a threat.
Adams and Wilson are ultimately given the short end of the stick, having to play catch-up to all of Cady’s elaborate methods to destroy their lives, and getting caught in the boorish marital and parental disputes they find themselves in. Adams, without a doubt, makes the lesser performance even more noticeable due to Anna’s elevated role in the series. Her spotty southern drawl is serviceable as the rest of her performance, which is far from the best she has done. Wilson is a bit more attuned to the series’ vision, but even the writing here makes Tom, a family man with secrets of his own, come off more like a cliché than a compelling character.
What Scorsese did with his adaptation of “Cape Fear” was cement a gnarliness into Cady’s quest, in what is one of his most dour outings, sprinkled with his signature style of violence, dialed up to eleven. It’s a film that rocks because, despite the barbarity of Max Cady’s actions, he is, in his purest form, a villain we can’t keep our eyes away from. A cigar-chewing brute obnoxiously laughing in the movies whose savagery can come out at the flip of a dime. So it’s no surprise that a watered-down mimicry of what worked so well in the previous adaptation is rarely found in this series.
THE GOOD – Javier Bardem brings a fresh spin to Max Cady, taking the best aspects of previous legends who have stepped in the role, such as Robert Mitchum and Robert De Niro.
THE BAD – The aping of Scorsese’s 91′ film merely for aesthetic leads to another film turned series that is too bloated and waters down what makes the previous iterations so successful.
THE EMMY PROSPECTS – None
THE FINAL SCORE – 5/10
