Verity means, according to Dictionary.com, “the quality or state of true, real, or accurate.” After watching the film of the same title, you might have to change that definition, but we will get into that in a moment. What I found myself thinking about as a Catholic was the title’s Latin root. That would be “veritas,” or “truth” in English. Perhaps the most appropriate use of the word from a Scriptural point of view would be the tail end of John 8:32, “. . . veritas liberabit vos,” which is always translated as “the truth will set you free” because English never misses an opportunity to use six words where three will do. Hopefully, this little Latin lesson has interested you in what I am about to tell you about this film.

Lowen Ashleigh (Dakota Johnson), a struggling novelist still grieving her mother, is not Verity Crawford (Anne Hathaway). Lowen is on her way to a meeting when a gruesome traffic accident leaves her splattered with a stranger’s blood. Jeremy Crawford (Josh Hartnett), who happens to be nearby, helps her clean herself up, and the two soon discover that they are headed to the same appointment. Jeremy is Verity’s husband, a bestselling author whose injuries from a serious car crash have left her apparently unable to speak, walk, or care for herself. He and Verity’s publisher want Lowen to complete the remaining books in Verity’s successful series. Financially desperate, Lowen accepts and travels to the Crawfords’ secluded Vermont home to study Verity’s notes. There she meets the incapacitated Verity and the couple’s surviving child, Crew (Brady Wagner), whose twin sister, Harper Crawford (Sienna Kulovitz), drowned in a lake. Lowen begins sorting through Verity’s office but finds something far more disturbing than outlines for unfinished novels: a secret autobiographical manuscript titled So Be It. In it, Verity describes an obsessive love for Jeremy and a consuming resentment toward motherhood, particularly toward Harper. The manuscript depicts Verity as jealous of the attention Jeremy gives their children and recounts horrifying acts of cruelty, including an attempt to suffocate Harper as an infant. Most damningly, Verity claims that she deliberately caused the canoe accident in which Harper drowned, saving Crew while allowing his sister to die. Lowen becomes increasingly horrified by what she reads, but she initially keeps the manuscript from Jeremy. At the same time, life inside the Crawford house becomes unsettling. Lowen repeatedly senses that Verity is watching her and begins noticing movements that should be impossible for a woman supposedly incapable of responding to her surroundings. Crew also makes comments suggesting that his mother may be more aware than everyone believes. As Lowen’s suspicion grows, so does her attraction to Jeremy. The two become emotionally and sexually involved even while Verity remains in the house, producing a situation that is already morally disastrous before anyone starts discussing murder. As a Catholic, this was a difficult aspect of the film to accept. Lowen’s fascination with Verity also takes increasingly strange forms, and the boundaries among fear, jealousy, desire, and imitation begin to blur. Eventually, Lowen obtains proof that Verity can move and has been pretending to be far more incapacitated than she actually is. When Lowen tries to get Verity to react, the famous author maintains her catatonic appearance. The act only enrages Lowen further, and she tells Verity that the lesser-known writer will be taking all the trappings of her success. Lowen finally gives Jeremy So Be It. He reads the manuscript and is devastated by what appears to be his wife’s confession that she murdered Harper. When confronted, Verity drops the pretense of helplessness. Jeremy attacks her, and his wife dies by suffocation in a manner suggested by Lowen. The film goes further than simply concealing the killing. Jeremy and Lowen place Verity’s body in the lake, echoing Harper’s death, and later perform the roles of grieving survivors when police recover her body. With Verity gone, Lowen and Jeremy appear free to build the life toward which they had already been moving. The apparent truth seems straightforward: Verity was a manipulative murderer who faked her condition, and Jeremy and Lowen committed their own terrible act after discovering what she had done. Then the story undermines nearly everything the audience has accepted. Lowen discovers a hidden letter Verity wrote to Jeremy. According to this account, So Be It was never a confession at all. Verity claims it was an exercise in “antagonistic journaling,” in which she rewrote her own experiences from the perspective of a villain to help develop the kinds of characters for which she was famous. She insists that Harper’s death was an accident and that the monstrous woman described in the manuscript was a fictionalized version of herself. The letter also offers a radically different explanation for Verity’s car crash. She claims Jeremy had previously discovered So Be It, believed it was true, and deliberately caused the crash in an attempt to kill her. After surviving, Verity says, she pretended to remain incapacitated because she was terrified of Jeremy and hoped eventually to escape with Crew. Lowen is therefore left with two incompatible versions of the same events. If the manuscript is true, Verity was a murderer attempting one final deception. If the letter is true, Jeremy and Lowen have killed a woman whose most horrifying crimes existed only on the page. Lowen destroys the letter rather than allowing Jeremy to read it, choosing the version of events on which their new life depends.

Verity consequently refuses to reveal which account is the truth. The woman named for truth leaves behind two stories, and Lowen’s final act ensures that only one of them will be allowed to survive. As such, the concept mentioned in the introduction about the truth setting one free is turned upside down. Nobody is free in this situation, even Jeremy. He may go on as though he and Lowen got away with murder, but God knows what really happened. Since He is the one who sees all, we will have to accept the fact that we may never have a complete picture. It all adds up to a movie that is extremely aggravating for this Catholic reviewer. The ambiguous conclusion is not the worst aspect of the story. It is the fact that there is no character about whom I care. For a while, I thought it was Jeremy since he plays the part of the loving husband in a believable manner. As soon as he began to cozy up to Lowen, though, I began to lose hope for him. Then there is Lowen. As a struggling author myself, I felt for her situation and the opportunity presented to her. I can even understand her being angry about what she reads in So Be It. The Christian response is not to then threaten to take Verity’s life from her. It only gets worse when she becomes an accessory to murder. Regardless of the financial loss, the only move with integrity would be to go to the police. And never mind Verity. Though I was not keen on seeing her die, she seemed to be manipulating everyone. I get that we are all fallen people in a world in which, sadly, the devil is at work. That does not mean we simply surrender to the darkness and return evil for evil.

The concept of darkness is a major one in Verity. Indeed, the eponymous author warns whoever reads So Be It that it will be a “dark journey.” As it unfolds, there is the suggestion that she takes this turn because she desires validation. At the same time, Lowen is just as guilty of wanting recognition for her work. Though she tries to act like she does not care that her novels are not selling, she later asks Jeremy to praise her work. This scene comes when he finally admits that he brought her in to write for Verity, rather than Verity having chosen her as he had suggested. The obvious Catholic response to this human weakness is the reminder that our deepest fulfillment can be found only in God. However, that is often too esoteric a concept for most. Put differently, we seek something more concrete. Again, this is understandable and not necessarily a sinful inclination. It is where we seek it that matters. I am not going to discuss Verity because it is intentionally unclear whether she is the loving wife or the villainous spouse. Instead, it is Lowen who bears the most scrutiny. She had just lost her mother and, thus, a source of unconditional love. She then settles on a married man. Our family and friends could fill that role much better, but she makes a poor choice. This dovetails nicely with something Verity writes in her mysterious journal: “In the end, everyone gets what they deserve.” Christianity ultimately offers something better than merely getting what we deserve, namely mercy and grace. Still, anyone who opts to take part in such nastiness is not likely to have a happy ending, literally or spiritually.

Indeed, there is little happiness in Verity, which is one of a few reasons why I did not enjoy it. It also has a few graphic scenes, sexual and violent in nature, that, as I often say, are completely unnecessary. Doing almost anything else would be preferable to this film.