A romantic thriller with a #MeToo tinge, it’s easy to see why Netflix snapped up Chloe Domont’s Fair Play at Sundance for a cool $20 million (just try to ignore the fact that this movie will likely be robbed of a theatrical release, ala Flora and Son, the festival’s other headline-making purchase). Even if the plotting doesn’t necessarily maintain steam throughout, this is still a fiercely intelligent, blackly funny, disturbing psychological thriller that will maintain its grip on you even after the credits end.

Emily (Phoebe Dynevor) and Luke (Alden Ehrenreich) are two lovers working at a high-powered hedge fund firm, attempting to maneuver their way into being New York’s next big power couple.  When we first meet them, they have a playful, romantic encounter in the bathroom that quickly devolves.  Suffice it to say, a sexual act goes wrong and a comical amount of blood ends up on both of their expensive outfits.  This is a canny introduction to the couple, as it indicates that the characters (and in turn, the director) are not afraid to get their hands dirty.  The bloodstains also serve as a humorous, ominous harbinger of what’s in store for this cutthroat erotic thriller.  Emily and Luke are trying to keep their relationship, and their pending engagement, a secret, hoping to more fully establish themselves before revealing that they’ve broken the firm’s HR policy on employee relationships.  In the meantime, there’s a promotion to be had, following a darkly hilarious scene in which another broker gets fired and has a complete meltdown in his glass-walled office. The coworkers watching an HR compliance video in the next room over respond by turning up the volume on their TV.  The couple presume that Luke is next in line for the promotion, and when those plans are altered, it leads to a dramatic shift in their power dynamic and serious repercussions for both characters.

Domont is masterful at turning the tension dial to ‘simmer’ and gradually turns it up throughout the film.  As soon as Luke’s dreams of getting a promotion are derailed, the plot kicks into high gear. And as the tat-for-tat retaliation escalates, the oppressive cinematography, with its cold, bright lighting, helps to crank up the tension. The loving, mutually respectful couple we first met becomes something else, something altogether darker.  When Emily gets the promotion, it has significant implications for both their work lives and personal lives, with Luke becoming increasingly more resentful and desperate.  Ehrenreich isn’t afraid to be unlikable and fully inhabits his character, his affect becoming more disheveled, the upbeat lilt gone from his voice. At the same time, Emily continues to climb the ranks at the firm, and Dynevor has fun with a character who’s drunk on her own success and also disgusted by what her fiancé has become.

The tense exchanges between the two are sharply written, and the actors play off each other beautifully, doing their best to one up each other in cruelty.  (That isn’t to say that the two are necessarily equals.  There’s clearly a villain here, albeit one shaped by societal expectations and trapped in their own outmoded thought patterns.) It’s impressive just how little this movie lets up in terms of the building tension.  As the movie goes back and forth between their professional relationship and their personal lives, it becomes clear just how much the toxicity of their work environment feeds into the toxicity of their relationship, like a positive feedback loop.

As breathless as the plotting is, it must be said that eventually the movie does begin to coast a tad on its own cleverness.  The machinations of Emily and Luke’s collapsing relationship are so entertaining that for a long stretch, it seems like the director might not have much to say beyond simply entertaining and unnerving the audience. Luke’s reactions to the situation do serve as an interesting commentary on toxic masculinity and power differentials, and how society allows women to be the inferior in a relationship, but not men. 

However, in the final scenes, Domont does firmly bring the film into the #MeToo world as the stakes ramp up dramatically for this ill-fated couple.  In fact, it ramps up so much and so quickly that I was a bit taken aback, to the point where it felt like the director pivoted to making social commentary at the expense of the characters and what we’d learned about them thus far.  It’s still entertaining and provocative, and does nothing to dim the quality of what preceded it, but it’s worth mentioning. 

There’s another point that bears discussion. If you’ve somehow made it this far into the review AND have avoided plot spoilers elsewhere: avoid trigger warnings if you can.  I know that content warnings ahead of a film or TV show can be essential.  Life is hard enough and overwhelming enough, that the last thing we need is to sit down and watch something that makes us relive past trauma.  But in this particular instance, the content warning is specific and touches on a third-act development that otherwise is intended to be a surprise.  Having read the warning in advance, I knew how the movie was going to end, which might’ve dampened its shock value for me.  I don’t know what the solution to this quandary is, but again, it’s worth mentioning. 

Overall, this is a wildly confident, incredibly entertaining erotic thriller, with two leads at the top of their game.  This movie belongs to them, though honorable mention goes to Eddie Marsan as their deliciously vile and misogynistic boss Campbell.  As the would-be power couple slowly stray further and further apart, it makes you wonder—what would’ve happened had Luke gotten the promotion? Had they followed the societally predetermined path in which the male becomes the breadwinner? This is part of how Domont gets under your skin, presenting this cautionary tale to make viewers question what they might be taking for granted in their own relationships, personal and otherwise.