'boston strangler' review

By @nadreviews

Keira Knightley and Carrie Coon in "Boston Strangler" (2023)

​When it comes to journalism films that put a much-needed spotlight on women in the newsroom, the more the merrier. Often faced with harassment and sexism from colleagues, female journalists face an uphill battle of being taken seriously in the field. Such was the case in 1960s Boston, Massachusetts, when a serial killer known as the Boston Strangler terrorized the streets. He targeted women as his victims, and committed 13 murders in the city. The investigative reporters who broke the story – Loretta McLaughlin and Jean Cole of the Record American – are given the narrative focus in the Hulu film “Boston Strangler.” Written and directed by Matt Ruskin, the film follows Loretta and Jean’s tireless work around the clock to connect the murders and make the city of Boston safer for women. With similarities drawn to Maria Schrader’s “She Said” released last year, “Boston Strangler” joins the chorus of films that prioritizes women’s contributions to an increasingly important industry.
 
“Boston Strangler” doesn’t move at the most exciting speed, which is a road block that many true crime films face. Procedurals based around an investigation naturally have lulls in the process. Potential leads dry up. Cases become drawn out. The chase of a story can be an incredibly long process, which the film seems to take to heart. The monotonous approach grows a bit tiresome and undercuts the engaging performances that Knightley and Coon deliver in their compelling roles.
 
The film focuses more so on Knightley’s character, Loretta McLaughlin. Her inspiring determination to cover stories beyond the lifestyle section leads to one of the most prolific pieces of journalism in history. When Loretta notices a connection between the underreported deaths of women in the city, she brings the information to her editor Jack Maclaine (Chris Cooper). After being turned down to cover the story, she persists, and ultimately gets the opportunity to pursue the investigation. Though her work faces pushback from a male-dominated newsroom, as well as a male-dominated household in which her husband James (Morgan Spector) believes she is neglecting her duties as a wife and mother. Loretta also faces the terrifying risk of putting herself into potentially dangerous scenarios.
 
Loretta’s commitment to the work continues alongside seasoned colleague Jean Cole (Coon). The two journalists team up and become trusty confidantes who understand the personal and professional risks of this case. The film smartly focuses on the trust and bond formed between both characters. Viewers are given a resonating glimpse into Loretta and Jean’s passion and dedication to conducting the most thorough work. The film also gives a spotlight to how they put themselves in harm’s way to bring the truth to their readers, and the city at large. Adding a compelling layer to the storytelling are two great performances by Knightley and Coon. Through their authenticity and command of the screen, the strength and perseverance of their characters stands out.
 
Additionally, there is something to be said for Ruskin’s perspective on the acts of violence. Among the most disturbing and upsetting scenes of the film are the Boston Strangler’s attacks. The assaults are not shown in full detail, and do not linger on how the violence is carried out. Ruskin admirably indicates that depictions of brutality committed against women do not need to be explicitly shown for an impact to be made. In the film, women’s perspectives are taken seriously, and their identities respected.
 
“Boston Strangler” can be engaging to an extent, mostly thanks to committed performances by Knightley and Coon in the starring roles. The film also resonates in its focused perspective from women in the newsroom. However, the overall direction and writing feels far too reserved to capture the sense of urgency and suspense around the case. In a sea of films about true crime and journalism, “Boston Strangler” falls short of being memorable in retrospect.