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The Last Thing He Told Me, Apple TV+ review: plodding thriller is best filed under property porn

Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and Jennifer Garner in The Last Thing He Told Me - Jessica Brooks/Apple TV+
Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and Jennifer Garner in The Last Thing He Told Me - Jessica Brooks/Apple TV+

Welcome to the latest from the “Perfect middle-class life destroyed by dark secrets” genre, aka Yet More Big Little Lies. Like its numerous predecessors, The Last Thing He Told Me is based on a book-club-driven bestseller – Laura Dave’s 2021 novel, snapped up by Reese Witherspoon’s production company Hello Sunshine – and blends crime drama with an aspirational lifestyle. Sure, it’s a headache that someone’s been murdered/has gone missing/the house is haunted, but have you seen the size of that kitchen island?

The fantasy property element here is the picturesque floating home in Sausalito, beside San Francisco Bay, belonging to newlyweds Hannah (Jennifer Garner) and Owen (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau), and the latter’s teenage daughter Bailey (Angourie Rice). It means Olivia Newman, who directs with a certain amount of visual panache, can indulge in sweeping shots of flower-strewn docks, sparkling waters, and the majestic Golden Gate Bridge: an aquatic Eden ripe for corruption.

I begin with the location because it’s genuinely the most notable element of this plodding thriller-without-many-thrills, adapted by Dave herself and Oscar-winning screenwriter Josh Singer. After the FBI raids the fraudulent start-up where Owen works, he disappears, leaving Hannah with a bagful of cash and a note simply saying “Protect her”. Hannah sets up out to prove his innocence – with Bailey in tow.

Mare of Easttown's Angourie Rice is frustratingly misused here - Erin Simkin/Apple TV+
Mare of Easttown's Angourie Rice is frustratingly misused here - Erin Simkin/Apple TV+

Ah yes, Bailey. Never mind the deadly mystery: Hannah’s greater challenge by far is winning over her stroppy, sarcastic stepdaughter ­– a frustrating misuse of Rice, who was excellent in Mare of Easttown. You know she’s angsty because she a) has pink streaks in her hair, and b) loves musical theatre. By the time she throws her 10th tantrum, you’re ready to toss her to the bad guys – which is easy enough, since the series is heaving with dodgy-looking men and menacing black cars.

Via hazy flashbacks, Hannah and Bailey also search their memories for clues. Was Hannah’s marriage too good to be true, and was there a double meaning to every single domestic exchange? (Yes, and yes.) Dave is trying to make a point about the unknowns in any relationship, but Game of Thrones' Coster-Waldau, so adept at moral ambiguity, sadly remains a blank slate here, while Hannah’s resurfacing trauma – she was abandoned by her mother as a girl – is underexplored. The supporting characters, including Hannah’s journalist friend and a bumptious US marshal, are mere clumsy vehicles for exposition.

But, if the emotional side of the story never quite clicks, it’s a treat seeing the ever-appealing Garner back in resourceful investigative mode. We even get a mini-Alias cast reunion: Victor Garber, who played her father on the Noughties spy drama, pops up as a supercilious professor. Somewhat bizarrely for a show obviously intended as a binge-watch, peppered with cliffhangers and propelled by a moody score, Apple TV+ is releasing the episodes weekly.

There are some (unintentionally) amusing scenes – like when woodturning artist Hannah dons her welding mask and flirts with Owen over her lathe, somehow recalling both Flashdance and Ghost – and a denouement so improbable that it’s laugh-out-loud funny. Otherwise this is a dour watch, alas, soggy with unearned family sentiment. Still, you wouldn’t say no to that houseboat.