Fair Play review – disappointingly generic… | Little White Lies

Fair Play review – dis­ap­point­ing­ly gener­ic cor­po­rate drama

29 Sep 2023 / Released: 28 Sep 2023

Two individuals in formal attire, a man and a woman, gazing intently at each other with intense expressions.
Two individuals in formal attire, a man and a woman, gazing intently at each other with intense expressions.
4

Anticipation.

First time director with an interesting premise? I'll bite.

3

Enjoyment.

Not much more to this than the synopsis suggests.

2

In Retrospect.

Frustratingly generic take on gender roles in and out of the boardroom.

Alden Ehren­re­ich and Phoebe Dynevor play a young cou­ple claw­ing their way up the cor­po­rate lad­der in Chloe Domon­t’s dour thriller.

In the cut­throat world of cor­po­rate trad­ing, there’s lit­tle room for sen­ti­men­tal­i­ty. Young lovers Luke (Alden Ehren­re­ich) and Emi­ly (Phoebe Dynevor) seem cog­nisant of this, even as they car­ry on a clan­des­tine affair after falling for one anoth­er while serv­ing as Wall Street ana­lysts at the same hedge fund. When the fir­ing of a col­league cre­ates a pow­er vac­u­um, it’s assumed that Luke will step up to fill it, to the delight of the cou­ple – until their boss Camp­bell (a woe­ful­ly mis­cast Eddie Marsan) throws a span­ner in the works by opt­ing to pro­mote Emi­ly instead.

While Emi­ly promis­es to make sure Luke is next in line for a cushy project man­ag­er job, the new pow­er imbal­ance in their rela­tion­ship – along with the toll of keep­ing it a secret from their col­leagues – puts con­sid­er­able strain on the cou­ple. In the­o­ry, this might set the stage for an inter­est­ing exam­i­na­tion of gen­der and sex­u­al pol­i­tics in domes­tic and pro­fes­sion­al set­tings. How might Luke deal with feel­ing emas­cu­lat­ed by his fiancé’s suc­cess? Will Emi­ly be able to make it as the only woman in a bull­ish male team? Unfor­tu­nate­ly, writer-direc­tor Chloe Domont’s debut dra­ma fails to make the most of its scin­til­lat­ing premise.

Out of Sun­dance some were quick to her­ald Fair Play as an erot­ic thriller, but this feels like an inac­cu­rate descrip­tor – while the film does fea­ture sev­er­al sex scenes, the lack of chem­istry between Dynevor and Ehren­re­ich and poor direc­tion means these moments are devoid of inti­ma­cy, and serve as a lazy short­hand for emo­tion­al con­nec­tion between the char­ac­ters. As the film drags on it becomes dif­fi­cult to see why exact­ly Luke and Emi­ly are togeth­er in the first place, aside from their pro­fes­sion­al prox­im­i­ty and phys­i­cal attrac­tion. They pro­fess their love for one anoth­er but don’t seem to like each oth­er very much, and there’s no sense of their iden­ti­ties out­side of their work­place – or even that for them, the work­place is their entire identity.

For a brief moment, it seems as though Luke is about to fall down a dan­ger­ous MRA rab­bit hole when he dis­cov­ers an online self-help course with queasy alpha male rhetoric, but in its strug­gle to keep focus on both pro­tag­o­nists, the film plays as a dour ver­sion of Work­ing Girl as Emi­ly tries to retain the killer instinct which her boss saw in her.

It’s a shame, as Ehren­re­ich is a com­pelling pres­ence, believ­able as the sort of enti­tled young man able to switch between charm­ing and con­niv­ing at a moment’s notice. Dynevor is more of a blank slate, and there’s lit­tle that sets her apart from the cur­rent crop of young British actress­es her­ald­ed as the next big thing.

But ulti­mate­ly the fail­ure is with the script, which lacks imag­i­na­tion or insight, cul­mi­nat­ing in an act of sex­u­al vio­lence that feels pre­dictable and almost spite­ful in light of the fact we’ve bare­ly come to know these char­ac­ters. Like fel­low Sun­dance dis­ap­point­ment Cat Per­son, it attempts to take on con­tem­po­rary Bat­tle of the Sex­es’ ter­ri­to­ry, but the wor­thi­ness of its sub­ject mat­ter alone is not enough to save this but­toned-up psy­chodra­ma from fiz­zling out before it real­ly catch­es fire.

Lit­tle White Lies is com­mit­ted to cham­pi­oning great movies and the tal­ent­ed peo­ple who make them.

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