I suppose any popular 101 minute treament of this story is going to struggle to explore the themes of male expectation, failure and isolation that are relevant to the Crowhurst story, and certainly for a film about being alone at sea for 7 months, we spend a lot time seeing pretty images of Teignmonth.
The script and pacing are rather generic in its box-ticking of events, the usual cliched news report voice overs and discussions in pubs chugging along the events in a necessary manner, while divorcing us from whatever Crowhurst experienced on his own, hearing of the travails of his competitors and how they variously piled new pressure upon his unfolding catastrophe.
The second half of the film would have benefitted without showing any other characters at all. Of course his family were suffering from their hopes, of course his publicist and financier were taking advantage of him, but there was no of course about how Crowhurst's decent into madness led him to writing about 'cosmic beings'. The most intriguing part of the story remains untold, and it could only be examined through more isolation, more of the sea.
Beyond that, Colin Firth is miscast. Crowhurst was an eccentric, he was dashing and goofy at the same time, vigorously intelligent and utterly misguided, and Firth makes the whole terrible misadeventure look like the misspent Sunday afternoon of a Daily Telegraph reader. I suppose Firth was required for funding? Hardly his fault thoigh, but this role needed Hugh Bonneville, Martin Freeman, or a more left-field actor.