56 Days doesn't quite deserve Dove Cameron
The actor stars alongside Avan Jogia in Prime Video's erotic thriller.
Photo: Jan Thijs/Prime
Dove Cameron should be a bigger star. That much is clear in Prime Video’s new erotic thriller 56 Days, in which she is the captivating heart of a story that isn’t quite up to her talent. But to a certain generation, Cameron has always been a star, with her dual roles in Disney Channel’s Liv And Maddie bleeding into a leading turn in the network’s lucrative Descendants movie-musical franchise as Maleficent’s feisty daughter.
All the while, she was releasing music and voicing roles across multiple projects, including a handful of Marvel-animated juggernauts. She also held her own against high-note heavyweights like Kristen Chenoweth and Ariana Grande in NBC’s Hairspray Live! But now she’s also clearly ready to grow up, and her public persona has matured in recent years with more sexually liberated music (“Boyfriend” and “Too Much” are unappreciated bangers) and ambitious acting roles. A few years ago, she even toyed with her own metamorphosis in Apple TV’s Schmigadoon!, first playing a temptingly innocuous farm girl in blond pigtails before navigating a homage to Sally Bowles in a jet-black bob for the show’s morally murky second season.
In many ways, 56 Days feels like the project Cameron has been laying the groundwork to make, a distillation of everything she has refined in her latest act. Over these eight episodes, which are based on the novel by Catherine Ryan Howard, she plays Ciara Wyse, a recent transplant to Boston who bumps into hotshot architecture exec Oliver Kennedy (Avan Jogia) in a supermarket and tumbles into a toxic relationship that ends in murder. Whose murder? The person decomposing in acid in the bathtub will never tell—at least not until later in the season.
This is hardly an original setup: A bad relationship leads to murder, with buddy-cop detectives (played by Karla Souza and Dorian Missick) left to track down a killer while outrunning their own ghosts. But the series, produced in part by James Wan’s Atomic Monster, tries its best with what it has. Namely, it recognizes the real draw here isn’t yet another instantly problematic relationship or the murder mystery born from it but rather the dual motives of Ciara and Oliver, neither of whom are in this for the reasons they claim. Even though they have no problem communicating physically, as seen in a few steamy albeit abbreviated sex scenes, they have a serious issue from the jump with telling the truth. It makes their rapid cohabitation even more tense, with unspoken secrets haunting the corners of Oliver’s high-rise apartment.