Netflix’s Fair Play over-delivers in its throwback to ’90s erotic thrillers
Luke (Alden Ehrenreich) and Emily (Phoebe Dynevor) in Fair Play. // Courtesy Netflix
Writer/director Chloe Domont’s debut feature is a throwback/modernization of the somewhat abandoned genre of erotic thrillers. The film, which comes to limited theaters today and directly to your Netflix account on Oct. 6, is a taunt, twisted, and wildly successful affair—until it hits a brick wall when it should’ve entered the end-zone.
Fair Play follows Luke (Alden Ehrenreich) and Emily (Phoebe Dynevor), who we meet at a wedding, where they’re drunk and horny enough to sneak into the bathroom. A quickie devolves into an accidental marriage proposal. Back at their Chinatown apartment, they leave the next morning and take wildly different paths to what turns out to be the same day-job, as they both work as analysts for One Crest Capital. In a post-#MeToo workplace, they know that keeping their relationship a secret will help them avoid unwarranted scrutiny, and allows them to secretly help support each other in one of the most cut-throat environments imaginable.
Campbell (Eddie Marsan) who runs the company is a brutal, threatening presence whose firing of under-performers interrupts HR training videos with a bought of violence. Truly, this nails a very Wall Street/Margin Call financial world that feels almost wrong to not feature genre staple Michael Douglas. Luckily, Ehrenreich and Dynevor are worthy inheritors to the throne of fast talking, quick-witted, flirtatious back-stabbing en masse. Their private policy-violating relationship seems to take serious footing for them, as much as they make sure it never interferes with their individual trajectories for the top.
Emily overhears that Luke is set to become the next big promotion within the company, replacing the recently rejected portfolio manager. But a middle of the night meet-up with Campbell under shady circumstances results in Emily getting the promotion. Luke seems to genuinely believe he isn’t bothered by this passing over, until human and expected drips of doubt and confusion begin to seep in. With both characters attempting to maintain their healthy secret relationship, a shadow of suspicion settles over both, as their day job now sees a wild imbalance where Emily is no longer Luke’s peer, but his direct boss. Now the boundary pushing young buck racing the clock to re-establish his power within the office and his future marriage is up against the wildly different fiscal philosophies of his wife to be.
Fair Play soars when it’s firing on all cylinders. It’s got excellent elements of incredibly horny workplace romance and a goddamned pressure cooker of a setting. Every minor setback is a gigantic loss and even their individual wins wind up tearing at each other. But what Domont’s film does best is find a permanent footing in hard grey areas. No one here is expressly good or evil, and no one here seems deliberate in their desire to cause harm. As this workplace romance spirals out into power games and fights, there’s a very real sense that almost until the final minute either of our two leads could take a step back, apologize, and maybe salvage their marriage, their jobs, and their sanity.
Unfortunately, it’s here where the picture over-delivers on the promise of a return to the ’90s erotic thriller, by jumping back into ’90s-era sexual politics by making some choices that quickly and permanently depart from the grey areas the film navigated so masterfully in its first 80-ish minutes. It’s a somewhat shocking finale, and whether that shock is earned or is simply confusion/disappointment in how hard this shifts from scope of the rest of the film is sorta up to the viewer. What’s undeniable is that it feels separate, other. Even with the rough landing, just watching Ehrenreich and Dynevor play off each other is still an impressive feat worth tuning in for.
Fair Play is in limited theaters on September 29, 2023 and will release globally on Netflix streaming Oct. 6.
