A tale of two missing females: whose life matters more?

The question of whose life matters more is being asked painfully every day in current headlines about the war in Gaza. It occurs repeatedly throughout the history of conflict and is a favourite moral dilemma, presented in many different scenarios, by philosophy professors, especially those, like Peter Singer, with a bent towards utilitarianism. It is also a useful dramatic device.

We see it played out in a different context, in the Apple TV dramatisation of US crime writer Laura Lippman’s 2020 novel, The Lady in the Lake.

In this classy noir adaptation, two lives are lost: one is a little Jewish girl, Tessie Durst, last seen in a pet shop admiring the fish tanks; the other is Cleopatra, a young black woman who is struggling to make ends meet working in a club owned by a black gangster, has a very sick child and has shown courage in speaking out about civil rights.

The contrast between the two deaths is stark: one is treated as a shocking tragedy by the community. The other passes more or less unnoticed. Such were the priorities in 1960s Baltimore, where the story is set. Interestingly, the producers of the TV version have chosen Cleopatra’s voice as the narrator, adding a supernatural layer to an otherwise gritty story. 

Initially, our focus is on neither of the victims. Instead, we meet a Jewish housewife, Maddie Schwartz, played by Natalie Portman. She looks much like she did playing Jackie Kennedy in the movie Jackie, right down to the pill box hats she wears. No surprises there, they share the same era.

Pretty soon Maddie, who lives with her attorney husband Milton and moody teenage son Seth, expresses her frustration with the limitations of her safe middle-class existence. We are not quite sure why it all becomes too boring so suddenly, but it causes her to flee to a black neighbourhood where she rents a dingy flat.

After she finds little Tessie’s body, in a spot familiar to her from early teenage sexual encounters, she soon finds herself having hot sex with a black police officer who also knew Cleo.

Maddie has a piece of invaluable forensic information about Tessie’s body that might provide a clue to the identity of her killer. Through passing it on to the local crime reporter, she develops an interest in becoming an investigative journalist (which was also Lippman’s chosen career path; she has written most of her books in her spare time from her job on the Baltimore Sun.)

There are more echoes from Lippman’s own life: although brought up Presbyterian, she had a Jewish grandfather and wanted to draw on her heritage in the novel. Also, when she was ten, a little Jewish girl around the same age, disappeared from the Orthodox community where she lived (having been given a lift from school to the local drugstore by a rabbi) and was found murdered a few days later. Some time earlier, the body of a black woman was found in a lake.

The alchemy of that material gives this adaptation authenticity, richness and layers of texture, although there are frustrations with the shaping of the screen narrative. Complexity is fine as long as it does not cause confusion but at times, the ambition of this series to interweave seemingly parallel destinies can leave the viewer feeling a little stranded.

Portman’s character is intended to carry the drama, but her mixture of brittle and breathy slumming it is not very relatable. By episode five, I had yet to find anything even remotely meaningful about her Jewish identity and her engagement with the community.

By contrast, there is an intensely close knit familial and network of social connections around Cleopatra, (played with towering and solemn presence by Moses Ingram) whose culture of music, albeit plagued by drugs and discrimination, elevates her existence. Ingram steals the show from Portman with a portrayal that is full of dignity, tragedy and allure. She is the show’s moral centre, navigating ever darkening options out of desperation.

I’m sufficiently invested to stick with the series, which signals from the beginning that there are no happy endings ahead. It is an intelligent if at times frustrating puzzle, (and like so many series these days that feature a welcome diversity of accents and patois, I recommend watching with subtitles) set against a painful moment in history that continues to ripple beyond the shores of the lake.