The narrative of the tycoon’s fatal retreat demise (no, not “Glass Onion”) presents intriguing technological concepts within a renowned mystery backdrop.
An idiosyncratic tech billionaire extends an invitation for a detective to probe the enigmatic death at a personal retreat. If the premise of “A Murder at the End of the World” seems reminiscent of Rian Johnson’s “Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery,” it might be due to its relative obscurity in recent memory.
Alternatively, the revelation might catch you off guard because “Murder” stands as the latest cinematic creation from Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij, known for their work on Netflix’s “The OA.” With interpretive dance and a telepathic octopus, the series served as a poetic and enigmatic exploration of human interconnectedness. In stark contrast, the murder mystery genre is renowned for its precise and structured narratives. Could Marling and Batmanglij truly craft something so… conventional?
This Tuesday on Hulu heralds the debut of FX’s “Murder,” a narrative that defies expectations by blending elements of synthetic intelligence with the distinctive Marling/Batmanglij touch on global perception. It reimagines an Agatha Christie-esque scenario into a murky, stylized cyber-noir ambiance. Think of it as “Glass OAnion.”
The lead investigator in this instance is a relative novice, aided by Bill Farrah (portrayed by Harris Dickinson), a brooding amateur sleuth she encountered online and developed feelings for. Darby Hart (played by Emma Corrin), a fervent young hacker, joins forces with Bill to track down a serial killer. Her venture into true-crime writing garners literary recognition and an invitation from Andy Ronson (depicted by Clive Owen), a tech magnate hosting an event for “original thinkers”—including artists, entrepreneurs, and even an astronaut—at a lavish, remote Icelandic hotel he constructed.
The objective of this Arctic TED Talk is ostensibly to contemplate the philosophical implications of climate change on society. However, Andy possesses an advanced A.I. entity named “Ray,” manifesting as a sharply dressed holographic figure sporting a goatee (brought to life by Edoardo Ballerini). Andy believes this system has the capacity to catalyze transformative changes in individuals, but to what end?
Collins ponders her inconspicuous presence among the luminaries gathered at the event. Despite her reservations, she accepts the invitation in hopes of meeting a tech luminary: not Andy, but Lee Andersen (played by Marling), his reclusive wife who retreated from public life following involvement in a Gamergate-like controversy, now residing in seclusion with Andy and their young son (portrayed by Kellan Tetlow).
Darby, however, finds herself drawn to another attendee: Bill, now a renowned artist whom she hasn’t encountered since their fallout at the conclusion of their joint investigation. Before they can reconnect, a death occurs, casting suspicion on Darby. The title likely hinted at this turn of events, so don’t feign surprise.
The thematic core of “A Murder” intertwines animosity and technology. Darby’s expertise in hacking and her empathy for marginalized female victims propel her into the serial killer narrative. Her inquiries often revolve around the inherent lack of trust she faces as a young woman. While her hooded figure serves as a stereotypical hacker image, it also symbolizes a metaphorical shield.
The narrative is steeped in A.I., mirroring Andy’s wintry retreat. Technological advancements have surpassed those depicted in the narrative, such as Ray narrating Ernest Hemingway’s Harry Potter tale in his voice, a feat that has become more commonplace in recent times.
However, “A Murder” portrays A.I. not merely as a risk but also as a potential nurturer. Andy, akin to other arrogant tycoons, employs technology to compensate for human imperfections that irk him. Despite its unsettling nature, the surveillance features integrated into the retreat offer valuable clues. As Darby delves into the mysterious death, she realizes that Ray functions as both a catalyst and an aide—a blend of Sherlock Holmes’s Watson and IBM.
While the contemporary whodunit may lack originality, Corrin imbues Darby with a nerdy, fervent portrayal that injects vitality into the occasionally lackluster dialogues. The series effectively captures Iceland’s dramatic volcanic beauty, creating a palpable atmosphere. (Filming also took place in New Jersey and Utah.)
The glimpses into Darby and Bill’s pursuit of the serial killer, spanning the majority of the seven episodes, are gripping and personal, with Dickinson unveiling Bill’s vulnerabilities. However, these sequences often overshadow the extended, humorous anecdotes they aim to flesh out, rather than enriching the overall narrative.
In its primary storyline, “A Murder” assumes an enigmatic form. The vaguely sketched retreat attendees are burdened with solemn dialogues and scant descriptions. Andy predominantly appeals to digital moguls inclined towards coercion. Lee remains a puzzle, with Marling leveraging her enigmatic aura as an actress. How did a pioneering coder transition into a traditional tech spouse? This question remains unanswered, underscoring the characters’ lack of depth.
Yet, Marling and Batmanglij’s work transcends plot intricacies or realism, focusing more on the exchange of ideas and intangible concepts. At its zenith, “A Murder” exudes grandeur, frigid beauty, and intellectual intrigue (culminating in a satisfying plot twist). With tighter editing, akin to recent minimalist trends, the series could have achieved greater impact. In this context, technology bears responsibility for the Streaming-TV bloat evident in this case.
