Shirley review: Elisabeth Moss's magnificence will loosen the screws in your head

Snarly: Elisabeth Moss excels as she portrays American horror writer Shirley Jackson
Charlotte O'Sullivan30 October 2020

Elisabeth Moss is given a lot of rope, but doesn’t hang herself, in this alt-biopic about the American horror writer, Shirley Jackson. The latter used to refer to herself as “Snarly Shirley” and Moss certainly gives good snarl. If she receives an Oscar for this performance, it’ll be a victory for witchy women everywhere.

Director Josephine Decker loves to mess with our eyes. Gorgeous images are often out of focus. The camera twists and spins, like lava in a lamp. As for Sarah Gubbins’ script (based on a novel by Susan Scarf Merrell), it’s not interested in the gospel truth and even flirts with thriller-ish tropes. Jackson, here, is a childless slob, living in rural Vermont, intrigued by her house-guest, pregnant newly-wed Rose (Odessa Young). A student from a nearby college goes missing. Was she murdered? And might Rose be next?

The real Jackson had four kids and was, by all accounts, a perfectly competent housewife. In other words, the film’s Jackson is a figment of Merrell/Gubbins/Decker’s imagination. If you can accept that, you’ll have a blast.

When we first meet her, Jackson is tinkering with an idea that will turn into the gothic classic Hangsaman, and is being driven mad by her philandering husband, Stanley (Michael Stuhlbarg). She’s initially suspicious of Rose. Slowly, though, the pair bond.

Moss looks nothing like she did in The Invisible Man. Robert de Niro allowed himself to balloon for the final scenes of Raging Bull and Moss pulls off a similar transformation here. Imagine a hungry lioness, in Ronnie Kray glasses. As Moss’s Shirley wages passive-aggressive war on Stanley and his faculty friends, she’s scary, absurd and utterly magnificent.

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Meanwhile, 22 year old Young bears an uncanny resemblance to Sylvia Plath, which adds an extra dimension to the character. Rose is boiling over with creative juices. Dangerously close to the edge, she’s more than just Jackson’s muse, just as Young is more than just Moss’s co-star.

Nor should Stuhlbarg’s input be overlooked. The actor skips effortlessly from rancid to tragic, and ensures Stanley is never a pantomime douche-bag.

It’s a shame that Rose’s husband, Fred (Logan Lerman), is a bit of a non-event, which blunts the impact of a last-act twist. Shirley, to be honest, isn’t as scary or taut as Jackson’s best work. Still, it boasts three of the best performances of the year and will loosen the screws in your head. It’s a flawed mistress-piece. I can’t wait to watch it again.

In cinemas from October 30

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