The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart, a seven-part miniseries adaptation of the novel of the same name, is a fascinating, if too slow developing, television series – gorgeous to look at, with some interesting performances, and a rather perfunctory plot. The series follows Alice Hart from her youth – as a nine-year-old dealing with the death of her beloved mother and abusive father – through adulthood, as she navigates her way through trauma, loss, pain, and deception, all the while trying to stop the cycle of violence that led her to live with her grandmother on a beautiful flower farm. If that sounds a bit convoluted, it’s only because I don’t want to spoil too much of the plot – there are a number of twists and turns in the narrative that should be preserved to keep the story feeling as fresh as possible. But what The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart provides in gorgeous visuals – seriously, the Australian setting is a thing of beauty, as are the incredible flowers within the flower farm – it lacks in real narrative heft as the story feels too slow and plodding throughout much of its telling.
The phrase “The book was better” is pretty commonly trotted out with book-to-screen adaptations, and while I haven’t read this particular story, I suspect that’s the case here. It’s not that the miniseries is bad – far from it, and I’ll get into what works well in a bit – it’s that the story doesn’t flow the way it should to be a truly compelling narrative. We should want to race to the next episode, excited to see what will happen next in the tale. But with this series, the central theme – how people attempt to protect themselves with lies and half-truths and then must deal with the shattering aftermath of their reveals – means that the audience is forced to watch those lies unfurl and then wait for the inevitable fallout in the future. We’re made complicit in those moments of self-destruction, those moments of fear masquerading as a belief that a lie can save those around the character from more pain. And then we have to wait for the fallout, which we know will be devastating, severing relationships and resetting the narrative chess board time and time again. That type of deception-based storytelling isn’t a bad thing in and of itself, but it becomes trying when watching a mini-series that slowly doles out the revelations, mining them for peak dramatic impact. And, as savvy television watchers, we can see just where the narrative is headed, which makes the wait for the story to catch up to the reveal and aftermath we know is coming almost excruciating to wait for.
In written form, I’m guessing these lies and revelations play out at a much faster clip. And we don’t have to sit and watch the characters wrestle with their decisions – and watch the flashbacks used to justify those decisions – over the course of multiple episodes. There’s only so many times one can watch an actor – here, usually Sigourney Weaver*, who plays June, the grandmother – stare pensively into the middle distance as they contemplate if they’ve made a selfish choice (usually!) or the correct one (usually not!). From a story perspective, The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart often feels like a beautifully shot soap opera, where revelations are withheld until the moment they can do the most damage and characters rarely seem to learn from their mistakes until it’s nearly too late.
*In my continuing quest to ask Hollywood to cast folks who can do the accent they are asked to do, I feel compelled to mention that I was left pretty confused as to just where June was meant to originally be from. Weaver’s accent occasionally sounds Australian, but more often than not sounds American crossed with English, which is an odd combination for a character who, by all evidence, has spent her entire life living in Australia. So, let it be said that I’m more than willing to point out when an American appears to drop the ball with their foreign accent as well.
But, as I mentioned, there are some positives within the series. First, the series is absolutely gorgeous to look at. Filmed on location in Australia, you get the absolute breadth of the natural beauty of the country. From the ocean, to the incredible flower farm, to the lovely river that is the setting for a number of key story beats, this is one visually stunning series. There are also a host of strong acting performances – coming from some of Australia’s finest television actors. Frankie Adams, best known for playing the tough as nails Bobbie Draper in The Expanse, gets to show a completely different side as Candy, a relative of Alice. Leah Purcell, best known to those of us in the US from Wentworth, is wonderful as June’s partner, the soft, caring half of the couple – a role that often asks her to be the audience surrogate in some tough scenes with Weaver. Charlie Vickers, Sauron on The Rings of Power, is Clem, Alice’s abusive father, and he makes it easy to see how someone could fall for his charm and continue to stay even after he begins to commit heinous acts. And then there’s Alycia Debnam-Carey (Fear the Walking Dead and The 100) and Alyla Browne, who split the role of Alice with grace and layered, emotional performances.
There’s things to appreciate and enjoy in The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart, but it’s certainly not a feel-good watch – or a particularly compelling story to continue coming back to. With more focused storytelling (we could easily trim a few episodes from the run length and not lose anything), this could have been a story that flowed easier and was a more comprehensive watch. However, if you’re in the market for a slow burn series where you’ll see the twists coming from a good distance away, give it a look. It’s certainly beautiful enough to take your mind off some of the less than successful storytelling at its heart.
The Lost Flowers of Alice Heart premieres on August 4 on Prime Video. All seven episodes were provided for review.
You wrote that Sigourney’s accent failed, but you didn’t mention her overall performance.