Stream It Or Skip It: ‘The Silence of the Marsh’ on Netflix, a Spanish Thriller About a Crime Author Who Also Commits Crimes

Netflix adds to its ever-broadening array of Spanish offerings with The Silence of the Marsh (El silencio del pantano), culling talent from other productions on the streaming service. The film stars Pedro Alonso, one of the principals of Money Heist, and is the feature debut of director Marc Vigil, whose credits include episodes of the series The Ministry of Time and Unauthorized Living. So is this adaptation of a novel by Juanjo Braulio, about a crime novelist whose fiction is inspired by his own secret nefarious deeds, a gripping thriller or just another neo-noir exercise?

THE SILENCE OF THE MARSH: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: So this writer guy played by Alonso, he’s known only as Q. (Feel free to roll your eyes here.) We see Q get in a taxi driven by an irritating and obnoxious man, and then we see him kill the man for being irritating and obnoxious. And then — get this — we see Q is actually at a book signing, reading from his latest novel, When the Sea Foam Turns Green, a title I hope is suffering in translation from Spanish. A fan asks him why his protagonist murders people. “Because he can,” Q replies with a smug look that makes you want to wallop him with a haddock.

It seems as if Q is following the old adage about writing what you know; I think he’s actually killing people, therefore rendering his stories extra-authentic. Can we be absolutely sure about that? I’m not sure if I can be sure about that. But it sure seems to be that way, as he tends to wear a furrowed brow and brooding simmering hollow-eyed sphinxlike stare implying he has dark, dark secrets. He also lives in an absurdly slate-gray old-warehouse apartment, his Writer’s Lair, which is so clean and austere there’s no way he isn’t a serial killer.

Q’s next book is about an econ prof who’s a corrupt former politician, so he goes out and kidnaps an econ prof who’s a corrupt former politician (Jose Angel Egido), and locks him in a scum-coated bathroom in a weathered old house on what is apparently his family’s property. It’s on a marsh, which is where the movie title comes in, and if you’re still wondering if Q is a bad hombre or not, keep in mind, movies from the past 30 or so years titled The Silence of something tend to suggest things.

The disappearance of the econ prof who’s a corrupt former politician sets off a chain reaction implicating a drug lord known as La Puri (Carmina Barrios), her heavily mulleted and heavily scarred thug Falconetti (Nacho Fresneda), corrupt current politician Isabel (Maite Sandoval) and eventually Q’s brother Nacho (Raul Prieto). Nacho’s involuntary involvement is no good. Falco’s voluntary involvement is also no good, as he’s the type of guy who cuffs you with a crowbar first and asks questions later.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Truth: It only very superficially brings to mind that other The Silence of movie. It’s more along the lines of movies-about-writers such as Adaptation, Barton Fink or, I dunno, Ruby Sparks, minus the writer’s block and/or surrealism and/or originality, and funneled through a generic neo-thriller template.

Performance Worth Watching: Barrios and Fresneda give the movie supporting-character color — in contrast to a disappointingly blank protagonist.

Memorable Dialogue: Falco’s very deep and meaningful philosophy: “That’s how life works. You f—, or you get f—ed.”

Sex and Skin: A brief scene in a strip club.

Our Take: During the movie’s opening scenes, Q, in annoying pseudo-profound voiceover narration, goes on about eels and reeds. You know, some people are eels and some people are reeds, and they live in a swamp and… well, it’s slop-metaphor nonsense, stuff that’s supposed to sound smart but is in fact quite ridiculous. Eels and reeds. Would you buy a book about “eels and reeds” written by a guy named Q?

So The Silence of the Marsh starts off on the wrong foot. It gets a little better the less time it spends with Q, who’s stoicism leans more towards empty vessel than compelling enigma. Why is he that way? BECAUSE HE CAN. Or maybe he’s an eel. Or a reed? Who knows. The film spends a significant amount of time with supporting characters, and Falco enjoys a couple scenes that render him a little something more than just a rudimentary heavy handling dirty jobs as ordered by his boss. Thing is, he’s so busy being a Movie Character, charging into confrontations with a crowbar instead of a gun despite the other guys almost certainly carrying guns, he’s unconvincing as a seen-it-all roughneck survivor type. The guy looks 50, but with that crowbar-first M.O., he never should’ve lived to see 20.

I’ll be honest — I’m not certain if the film is as coherent as my description of it. (#HUMBLEBRAG) It’s a relatively taut 92 minutes, but it’s a scattered narrative, in need of more scenes or less characters. It’s too poker-faced, too derivative, too muddled. Maybe I needed to lean a little closer to the TV and squint. Maybe that shot of Q staring up at one of those flocks of birds that move eerily like one organism shouldn’t look so much like stuff ripped off from True Detective or Take Shelter. Or maybe the story bit off more than it could chew, because the payoff is disappointing like flaccid asparagus when you’re really hungry for crisp asparagus.

Our Call: SKIP IT. GTF outta here with your eels and reeds.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba.

Stream The Silence of the Marsh on Netflix