A Widow’s Game Movie Review: A lack of suspense and predictable writing in this true crime drama

Carlos Sedes’ A Widow’s Game (La viuda negra) is inspired by the true crime case known as the black widow of Patraix. Stories based on real life are always a tricky proposition; how much do the filmmakers/writers alter to tell an engaging narrative without distorting the larger reality? That’s the challenge. The film states that it has changed certain elements for creative purposes, but it doesn’t seem to have benefitted much from them. Even though it is presented from three different perspectives – the lead investigator, the wife/widow, and one of her lovers – it runs too predictably to garner any sort of interest. If A Widow’s Game had an unreliable narrator at the heart of it, it could have spiced things up. The three perspectives the film presents aren’t even a version of events (differing points of view) seen from the interview/interrogation room of a police station. If it were something like that, without showing what actually transpired, the viewer would be left to put the pieces together. What is lacking in the film is a feeling of suspense. It is established very early on who the brain behind the murder is. Who committed the crime is just a matter of narrowing down the list of the suspect’s lovers. As in the horror or thriller genre, the impact of mystery or the unknown is everything. A Widow’s Game, despite more than a decent performance from Carmen Machi (as the lead detective), falters on its average writing.

Director: Carlos Sedes

Cast: Ivana Baquero, Carmen Machi, Tristán Ulloa, Pablo Molinero, Pepe Ocio, Álex Gadea, Joel Sánchez

Streamer: Netflix

Maje’s (Ivana Baquero) husband, Arturo (Álex Gadea), is found brutally stabbed in the parking lot of their apartment complex. Eva (Carmen Machi), a seasoned detective is assigned the case. Her team of three goes about putting together a list of likely suspects. Maje plays the perfect widow - shaken, grief-stricken, at a loss for words. But Eva and her colleagues have their doubts from the beginning. During the course of interviews, it is understood that Arturo was controlling and possessive, the jealous type. Maje’s friend lets the cops know that she was seeing a man named Daniel over the last two months, something that Maje confirms herself. As the cops dig more, they realise that the latter was involved with her ex a month prior to her marriage with Arturo. He finds out about the infidelity, but the marriage goes ahead as planned. This is a fact that interests Eva. Maje’s careful construction of her deceased husband’s persona doesn’t seem to be holding water. Her vice-like grip on her long line of romantic admirers has the detectives believe she had ample help along the way. Knowing, with a fair degree of certainty, is one thing, but there’s the small matter of collecting evidence to prove their suspicions.

Maje is a garden-variety sociopath who manipulates every single person she comes in contact with; her friends, her family, her lovers, and her husband. And this is established rather quickly. One consistent lie being pedalled is that Arturo is abusive and violent. She tells her lovers different versions about her husband’s medical condition; he is in palliative care for cancer in one, dealing with a horrific car crash in another. The film would have been a lot better if they had focussed more on Eva; her deep understanding of criminal minds, the struggle of losing a fellow detective/partner on the case, and her strained personal circumstances. Unfortunately, Maje and her nurse-colleague Salva hog a majority of the screen time. Despite the police procedural aspects of A Widow’s Game being the ones worth investing in, there are loopholes that cannot be ignored. When the team gets authorisation to tap Maje’s phone and pull out her records, how do they miss a recent incriminating text exchange between the widow and Daniel? Maje states explicitly that she wants her husband dead, and whether he could help her with the job. Surely a grave back-and-forth like that (with no evidence of humour or irony in the messaging), is adequate evidence of criminal conspiracy? But instead, the police wades through months of audio conversation to pin her as the mastermind. Another glaring omission is the motive. It isn’t clearly understood why she wishes her husband dead. He is neither wealthy, influential nor abusive. When the nurse’s lovers enquire about the option of divorce (and that’s a valid question, indeed), she concocts tales of his medical condition and abusive nature. All she is due is the house they live in (something she has purportedly paid for) and basic insurance money. No fortune to be had, by any stretch). The fact that Arturo even threatens divorce when he discovers her affair with Daniel, makes me wonder about her real reasons all the more.

Ingenious writing or a fresh structure could well have set A Widow’s Game apart. But that was not to be the case.