At the crux of the third chapter of Apple TV+'s captivating literary masterpiece, 'The Lady in the Lake,' lies a profound inquiry: What is the exorbitant price of freedom for a woman like Cleo? And for Maddie, what does that liberation resemble? As the narrative unfolds, we ostensibly trail Maddie Schwartz, formerly Morgenstern, on her meticulous quest to unravel the enigmatic fate of Cleo, once Eunetta Johnson—her journey leading to the revelation of how she met her untimely demise, discarded by a lake's fountain.
Yet, beneath the surface, director-writer Alma Har'el, echoing novelist Laura Lippman's intent, delves into the broader canvas of late-1960s Baltimore, raising questions that resonate far beyond the titular figure's tragic tale. Here, two women's lives are inextricably linked by death's chill touch—twice over, as Maddie's entanglement in the Tessie Durst murder inadvertently propels her towards Cleo's unsolved mystery. Their paths, though parallel yet slightly askance, are a testament to their relentless struggle against the suffocating grip of societal norms, enforced by men who seek to confine them within rigid roles.
The episode opens with a haunting dreamscape, where a young Black girl, Eunetta (Cleo in the making), dances among hopscotch squares in an abandoned alley, shrouded by ghostly white sheets. Amidst the fantasy, she glimpses a lamb, a poignant reminder of Maddie's recent encounter with one in the disavowed home she left behind. This dream is Eunetta's escape, a sanctuary from the harsh reality where her mother's wrath echoes against her father's reckless gambling—a foreshadowing of the desperate lengths she'll eventually be pushed to.
In the present, Cleo finds herself consumed by paranoia, her role as an unwitting getaway driver in an assassination attempt on Myrtle Summer threatening to unravel her world. Her loyalty to Gordon Shell, it seems, is misguided; for how could he know, when even her own boss at the Pharaoh remains oblivious to Reggie's betrayal, involving Cleo in a failed hit? Trapped in a web of her own making, Cleo finds herself with dwindling options, each choice leading to a dead end, forcing her to confront the harsh realities of her choices and the cost of her freedom.
Meanwhile, Maddie revels in her newly acquired liberation, adorned with freshly pierced ears and fueled by a whimsical aspiration to become a newspaper journalist. Cleo's voice-over echoes, taunting Maddie, "Your literary aspirations once shattered your existence; now, you seek to reshape it with those same shattered dreams. But why must you drag my name into your narrative?" It underscores her sense of entitlement and self-importance, as she confidently strides into the Baltimore Star offices, all but demanding that Bob Bauer (Pruitt Taylor Vince), with whom she had a fleeting conversation weeks prior, pave her way to bylines. Her folly is evident, yet her zeal is undiminished.
When Bauer effortlessly dismisses her, claiming she lacks leads and the story has run its course, Maddie refuses to relinquish control. Determined, she pens a letter to Stephan Zawadzkie, imprisoned in a psychiatric hospital, penning, "I was the first to witness her demise, while you were the last to see her alive." She encloses a photograph of herself, a testament to her unwavering belief that her charms have never failed her (Bauer being an exception). In this, she mirrors Cleo, who, grappling with the trauma of the preceding night and her mounting paranoia, seeks solace by donning her finest attire and shaking off her troubles on the dance floor of the Pharaoh club, where she nearly embarrasses herself. Fortunately, Slappy appears as her guardian angel, escorting her home safely, though unable to pry open the veil of her turmoil.
Her plate is overflowing with burdens, and the task of sharing them all seems daunting. Where to even begin? Ministers besiege her, offering hollow promises of hope to her son, plagued by sickle cell anemia, while demanding financial assistance. She narrowly escaped being an accomplice to the assassination of her political idol. And she can't even steer her other son away from gambling's clutches, a vice that consumed her father. In a poignant moment, Cleo articulates her predicament, "I sought deliverance from the politician, protection from the pimp, salvation from the preacher. Yet, in the end, I stood alone, drowning in my own despair, Maddie."
Lippman's novel masterfully weaves a tapestry of perspectives, alternating not merely between Maddie's and Cleo's, with the latter's voice resonating hauntingly as if from beyond the veil, but intricately intertwining their stories with those of others—Bob Bauer, Cleo's son, and even fleeting characters Maddie encounters in the tapestry of her life. Har'el, with a laser-sharp focus on these two women, delves deeper into the intricate dance of their similarities and differences, some rooted in culture, others intimately personal.
Consider their disparate approaches to motherhood: Cleo, her devotion to her sons a blinding beacon, stands in stark contrast to Maddie's detachment from her teenage son, Seth. Arriving tardy to his college fair, Maddie's pragmatism borders on aloofness, a fault line that sets the stage for their fraught interactions. Seth, with a penchant for provoking, finds every opportunity to needle his mother for her abandonment. As they attempt to rekindle their bond over a visit to Maddie's downtown abode, their irritable exchanges escalate into a shouting match that unravels a shocking revelation: Milton is not Seth's biological father. Yet, the twist deepens—Seth already knew, having stumbled upon this truth in Maddie's diaries before his bar mitzvah. He's been carrying this secret, unsure of its implications beyond acknowledging Milton as his father, fostering resentment towards his mother and magnifying the pain of her departure. Maddie is left reeling, unsure of her next move.
Meanwhile, at the Pharoh, Cleo's relationship with Gordon continues to weigh heavily on her heart, her baby-blue coat, a beacon for anyone seeking her, proving to be a harbinger of doom. Ferdie's street-level investigations into Myrtle's assassination attempt lead him straight to Cleo, her coat the crucial clue. Cunning as she is, Cleo recognizes the wisdom in cooperating—at least to buy herself some precious time, the only currency Ferdie can offer. Thus, she divulges details about the getaway car, all while plotting a daring escape funded by gambling, Reggie by her side, and a rigged game on the line. It's a perilous gambit, but one she hopes Reggie will endorse, recognizing that her continued cooperation with Ferdie threatens their mutual interests. The question looms: Will Cleo succeed in her scheme before the walls of her world come crashing down around her?
The perilous nature of Maddie's communication with Stephan, who has consented to a face-to-face encounter, looms large with equal trepidation. Will this impending meeting yield dividends, particularly amidst Maddie's deepening knowledge of Tessie's murder's macabre facets? Accompanied by Bauer, who reluctantly concedes that "Miss Morgenstern" might possess a genuine talent for journalism, she ventures to the coroner's office. There, she uncovers harrowing details: Tessie had scratched at her assailant before her demise, yet Stephan bore no such marks, and signs of probable sexual abuse, though her hymen remained unscathed, haunt the investigation. Will the weight of these revelations be too much for her to bear, or will they propel her towards becoming the relentless reporter she had always aspired to be?
