‘FAIR PLAY’ Review: Plays A Predictably Plotted Game 

Courtney Howard // Film Critic

FAIR PLAY

Not Yet Rated, 1 hour and 53 minutes

Directed by: Chloe Domont

Starring: Phoebe Dynevor, Alden Ehrenreich, Eddie Marsan, Rich Sommer, Geraldine Somerville

Romantic relationships are always tricky, especially in the movies. In FAIR PLAY, one couple’s love and fidelity is put to the test when one of them gets promoted and the other is left to wallow in bitterness, play mind games and lob professional potshots – and I bet you can already guess which one that is. Chloe Domont’s directorial debut has a coherent, cogent narrative and earns our good graces with its technical craftsmanship and assured performances. However, it doesn’t forge much new ground exploring the tired, sexist notion that men are threatened by successful women. While that may be true for some (Reese Witherspoon and Hilary Swank’s marriages to actors ended after they won their Oscars), this feature doesn’t subvert its discussion of such gender-based stereotypes. 

Luke (Alden Ehrenreich) and Emily (Phoebe Dynevor) prefer to keep their personal and professional life separated whilst working as financial analysts at a hedge fund and secretly living together. He prowls the floor like a lion and she takes pleasure as a quiet observer. Breaking office policy is a turn-on for them, but they plan on telling co-workers and friends they’re engaged once they reach the next level in their careers. As of now, Emily’s oppressive mom (Geraldine Somerville) is the only one to hear of their blessed news and, even then, she’s sworn to secrecy (bet you know where that’s headed).

After their superior Quinn (Jamie Wilkes) has a meltdown in front of the whole office, rumors circulate that Luke is next in line. Shortly thereafter, Emily’s best friend in the office ditches her one late night at a bar, leaving her in the company of big boss Campbell (Eddie Marsan). Though she’s reticent to brag about it, Emily is just as accomplished as Luke – and it’s clear Campbell has his eye on her for the promotion, not her fiancée. Naturally this quickly leads to a power shift in the happy couple’s relationship dynamic, leaving him sour and harboring resentment. Emily thinks she can still help him climb the firm’s corporate ladder, only she quickly learns she could potentially harm him and take them both down in the process. 

Unfortunately, like serving a plate of warmed-up leftovers, Domont offers nothing fresh for her audience to dine on. A man has a problem with a woman being more successful than he is and this bleeds over into their love life: News at 11. She fails to challenge clichéd notions of overtly and covertly toxic masculinity and misogyny, nor engage with these concepts in an innovative, unique way. It comes up short in its portrayal of a woman negotiating her way through a hostile, male-dominated world – highlighted in the scene where Emily goes out for drinks at the strip club with her former peers in the office. Later, she briefly retaliates with violence (a primal masculine emotion) to get Luke’s dam to break, but moreso to provide the screenplay with a cruel, cold, calculating final line. 

These characters’ cutthroat work environment doesn’t exactly break new ground either, relying on some contrived reasoning. Predictably Luke lashes out at Emily, undermining her with personal slights and professional plotting, blurring the lines between enemies and lovers. It takes an interminable amount of time before Emily floats the idea that Luke should go to another firm that offers greater upward mobility – even though we can sense his pride and male ego would never allow him to leave. If she rationally suggested he start his own firm earlier on in the picture, there’d be no conflict and no movie.

While the narrative underwhelms, the technical construction helps buoy the picture. Sound design is key in dressing up the lead character’s landscapes. Background sounds of bustling New York City – with its bounty of jackhammers, sirens, and piercing subway brakes – come to the foreground, emphasizing a growing dissonance between the couple. Brian McOmber’s prickly score plugs us right into their psyche, specifically in the scene where Luke and Emily scramble to fix a massive mistake, punctuated by the plucking of a taut piano wire and the pulsating of ethereal synths. Menno Mans’ cinematography is polished and provocative, differentiating the two worlds these characters inhabit, where warm tones flood their home and cool, bruising fluorescents light up their office.

Despite Ehrenreich infusing his character with a cocky arrogance and pure id, and Dynevor imbuing hers with vulnerability and verisimilitude, the pull of the picture relies on the story being told. It noticeably yearns to make a strong impact, yet that punch doesn’t land. The game it’s playing is played out.

Grade: C-

FAIR PLAY played Sundance 2023. It was sold to Netflix for distribution.