This morning, Amy Adams and Patricia Clarke received Golden Globe nominations for their complicated and messy roles in HBO's Sharp Objects. Revisit our love letter to the limited series, below.
The season finale of Sharp Objects is upon us and I'm worked up.
Sharp Objects is the best show ever and don't @ me. Or do. I don't care. There have been lots of thoughtful takes on this show but unless a think piece is titled "Sharp Objects is a masterpiece" I don't want it.
Is Camille (Amy Adams) the worst reporter ever? I don't know. Maybe? But, does she exist in a fictional narrative with a thrilling arc and compelling, flawed characters? Yes!
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Sharp Objects is beautifully shot. The acting is masterful. It makes use of sound and music in a completely innovative way. The set design is impeccable (those hidden messages!). It tackles issues of gender, class, and the fetishization of dead girls. We get to see Chris Messina's butt.
Elizabeth Perkins vapes while wearing a series of excellent caftans. Camille and Amma (played by the masterful Eliza Scanlen) have perfect hair. There are swampy nights to be roller-skated through. There are creepy shacks in the woods that are clearly emblematic of the way some young women discover that their burgeoning sexuality is somehow inextricably connected with violence. There are cocktails to be mixed, and shirts to be sweated through.
This is a fact: Sharp Objects shows us a community of preyed-upon women navigating the horrors of life. This is also true: Sharp Objects makes me want to drink whiskey and sway around in my apartment and maybe cry a little bit in the bathtub (but in a good way). And like every great cinematic masterpiece, a lot hinges on its ending — that final denouement. I really, really need to know that Sharp Objects will end in the way it deserves to end. Will they find the killer? Will the Sheriff and Adora (a never- better Patricia Clarkson) get together while the creepy husband puts on his creepy headphones? Will we see Camille's former catty classmates have one last meet up to drink wine, cry, and validate the living shit out of each other?
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I need to know the answers to all of these questions and more but also, I'm not sure how I'm going to bear the absence of this perfect summer show in my life. Sharp Objects (may I be so bold as to address you directly?), while I await your season finale with unabashed enthusiasm and barely contained anticipation, your ending will be truly bittersweet. I guess I will just have to live with this Bloody Mary-shaped hole in my heart.
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