‘The Whisper Man’ review: Robert De Niro in the Netflix thriller

The producing talent of Anthony and Joe Russo likely played a role in recruiting such an accomplished cast for the Netflix film. The man who whispers. James Ashcroft’s thriller may seem driven more by content than craft, but this adaptation of British crime author Alex North’s best-selling novel is solidly entertaining, if not as frightening as its plot about a copycat serial killer preying on preteens suggests. In that sense, it doesn’t approach the accelerated visceral intensity of the New Zealand director’s 2021 debut. Coming home in the darkbut as a continuous feed it gets the job done.

Adapted by Ben Jacoby and He co-writer Chase Palmer, the film gets down to business with a police search in a semi-rural area of ​​New Jersey led by Detective Amanda Beck (Michelle Monaghan), in search of Neil Spencer, a boy kidnapped from his home the night before. No trace of Neil is found, but the corpse of another missing boy appears.

Around the same time, widowed crime writer Tom Kennedy (Adam Scott) moves from the Jersey Shore to the small town where he and his late wife grew up, hoping that the change in environment will benefit his traumatized eight-year-old son, Jake (Acston Luca Porto). But Jake seems uncomfortable in the spacious old house his father has rented (neat work by decorator Anastasia White), seeking comfort in the presence of an imaginary friend he has brought with him in the move.

Meanwhile, Det. Beck discovers strange similarities between the newly discovered corpse and those of the victims of a series of murders about 25 years earlier, committed by a murderer who became known as the Whisper Man for the way he lured his prey through their windows at night. The chilling nursery rhyme associated with these crimes has remained in gruesome local folklore. But the culprit, Frank Carter – Netflix has requested that critics not reveal the name of the unbilled actor who plays him – remains behind bars and is serving a life sentence.

Carter was apprehended by Det. Pete Willis (Robert De Niro), who retired soon after but quietly continued to obsess over a sixth victim whose body was never found. When Jake is kidnapped, it emerges that Pete is Tom’s estranged father and has never even seen his grandson. The only clues come in the familiar form of a child’s drawing, accompanied by a cassette tape with a voice recording of the missing boy, mimicking Carter’s methods a quarter of a century before.

The writers demonstrate a deft sense of economy in shedding light on the details of the cold distance between Tom and his father, aside from the mention of Pete’s drinking. But it’s easy to imagine the absent parenthood of a man likely married to his work and consumed by one case in particular.

The bitterness Tom feels toward his father emerges as a torrent of contempt when they meet in a restaurant, where the novelist demands that Pete become involved in the investigation, despite repeated claims that he has abandoned his detective work. Beck also enlists the veteran cop’s help; she has a hunch that Carter might hold the key to finding Neil Spencer and Jake, but the convicted killer has only consented to be questioned by Pete.

It’s a good role for De Niro, remorse, fatigue and loneliness written all over his face as Pete attempts to extend an olive branch to the stubbornly uncaring Tom. The psychological play between Pete and Carter as the former detective begins to cooperate provides a bristling sense of his long and frustrating history of playing games with the killer.

A person of interest in the case is Norman Collins (Hamish Linklater), a stylish sicko with a large collection of murder memorabilia, who has twice visited the prison where Carter is incarcerated in recent months. But other possibilities also surface, pointing to a more direct connection between the current horrors and those of Whisper Man, while leading to explosions of violence and tragedy in the latter part.

Ashcroft directs with a sure hand although some late developments in the action clearly owe more to pulpy detective fiction than psychological verisimilitude and he doesn’t really stick the landing. But the actors remain convincing enough even when the pace threatens to slow here and there, adding emotional texture through the script’s contemplation of difficult father-son dynamics. Colin Stetson’s score helps maintain the eerie atmosphere.

The man who whispers not going to contest The silence of the lambs as the genre’s high point, nor does it benefit from a menacing, disjointed performance from Nicolas Cage, like the one that made Long legs turn heads. (Or for that matter, like John Lithgow’s malevolent turn in Ashcroft’s mixed second feature, Jenny Pen’s Rule.) But the film has enough going for it to gain ground in Netflix’s algorithm.