‘Boston Strangler’ Review: A Murder Mystery with Meaning

Ever wanted to hear Kiera Knightley speak with a deliberately faint Boston accent? Well then, the “Boston Strangler,” released this March, is the film for you.

The “Boston Strangler” is based on the true story of the murders of 13 Bostonian women in the early 1960s. The film follows Loretta McLaughlin (Kiera Knightley), a reporter for the “Record American,” and her co-writer Jean Cole (Carrie Coon) as they seek to investigate the killings alongside a rattled police force. The pursuit is not made easy by numerous dead ends, institutional ineptitude, and tense home lives. All in all, the film does an effective job of capturing and retaining audience interest through unexpected twists and turns. “Boston Strangler” presents more than a simple murder mystery; instead, the film takes a glean into the struggles of ambitious women in the workplace and the uncertainty of justice, orchestrated into a nuanced, truthful ending.

“Boston Strangler”’s director, Matt Ruskin, is no stranger to the genre, with past crime drama films such as “Crown Heights” and “Booster.” Ruskin’s experience shines through his cinematic choices such as adept pacing and deft shots by cinematographer Ben Kutchins. Murderous acts of the killer are displayed with abrupt shots to emphasize his mystique and danger, a longer shot tracks the movement of Loretta in the newsroom to center her in her environment while capturing her bustling atmosphere. These techniques effectively rope the audience into the world of these characters as viewers become invested in their stories.

The primarily green-blue color palette of the film coupled with its conservative use of lighting establishes the ominous mood of the solemn subject matter; however, it can become overwhelming for audience members as it remains prominent throughout the film. Nevertheless, the cool color scheme effectively brings out the warmer tones of light throughout the film, from the gentle blooms of reporter flash cameras to the yellow-tinted shine on faces, reflecting the light of house lamps. The lighting similarly plays an instrumental role in smaller plot lines, such as its illustration of the dwindling vitality of Loretta’s domestic life and relationships. The opening scene of her family sitting together at the kitchen table — the warmth of the sun shining through — resembles nothing of the final view of her home, dark from the outside save for the bright flashes of the TV through the curtain that her husband watches, alone. This method of storytelling is subtle, yet effective, as the true weight of the shift — gradual throughout the movie — registers holistically for the audience by the film’s close.

The authenticity of the time period is represented by shots of whirling ink rollers or the low rumble of a black 1950s Mercury Monterey. The characters come to life through minor changes in body language. While Kiera Knightley may not say anything as she examines an autopsy file, her chest rises, her jaw tightens, and she rests her head on her fingertips. These details may not seem significant, but they add to the overall narrative and sophisticated mood of the film.

The film provides an insightful look into the diversity of attitudes and approaches to the strenuous, commonplace incidents of gender discrimination through the contrasting characters of Jean and Loretta. When faced with workplace discrimination, menacing calls, and a job that keeps one from home, Jean is calm and calculated where Loretta is agitated and impassioned. “Let ‘em sell their papers,” Jean says to Loretta as she is enraged by the newspaper’s circulation stunt of printing their portraits — in an attempt to generate intrigue with female reporters — “you still got the biggest story in the city.” While these two women often pick different battles, the ultimate display of feminist solidarity is in their collaboration and mutual respect for each other, as they realize they can both learn from one another.

Embedded, too, is a critique of law enforcement structures, which Loretta publishes as murders stack up and the Boston Police Department still refuses to share information with other police forces, missing potential connections. While she comes to empathize with their position through collaboration with Detective James Conley (Alessandro Nivola), her criticism also speaks to the reluctance of news outlets to condemn the police, a persistent apathy toward violence against women, and a society all too ready to capitalize on tragedy.

“Boston Strangler” has the power to enthrall audiences with gorgeous cinematography and emotive performances. Ultimately, the movie is meaningful for its acknowledgment of the women who fight to exist and serve societies that diminish them and their work — those who are as much victims of the systems of justice which failed them as they are of any murderer.