Since its unveiling at Sundance, Fair Play (Fair play), the first feature film by Chloe Domont, is preceded by echoes as laudatory as they are sulphurous. It is praised as a remarkable “erotic thriller”. If we say the truth about quality, we are wrong about classification. Indeed, the screenwriter does not offer so much lasciviousness as an eloquent paralleling of the power dynamics between women and men at work and in relationships. This, by embracing the feminine perspective in a context where Madame becomes Monsieur’s boss.
Independent production acquired for 20 million US dollars by Netflix after a bitter bidding war between different studios, Fair Play takes place precisely in the field of high finance. Like her fiancé, Luke, Emily works for a Wall Street hedge fund. Their employer prohibits unions between colleagues, Emily and Luke must keep their relationship a secret and maintain a facade of simple professional camaraderie. Their careers depend on it.
In the hands of the filmmaker, this narrative element acts as a formidable tension mechanism; an exciting tension, but benign at the beginning, then anxiety-provoking and unhealthy as the outcome approaches.
The other source of tension comes early, when Emily gets the promotion that Luke thought was his. He swears he’s happy for her, but his crestfallen expression and subsequent passive-aggressive comments prove otherwise.
In order to buy peace in private, Emily publicly raises the profile of Luke’s increasingly disturbing behavior. In short, rather than enjoying her success, the first manages the second’s bruised ego.
Surgical precision
Revealed by the series Bridgerton, Phoebe Dynevor delivers a captivating performance as the heroine. His Emily is a brilliant woman with a formidable instinct for work: she is, beyond any doubt, more competent than Luke – whatever some disgruntled male subordinates suggest, with their petty rumors of sexual favors granted in high places.
Moreover, as a tough but fair boss, the always formidable Eddie Marsan skillfully plays on his small stature, which he makes imposing here.
Seen in Solo, A Star Wars Story (Solo, a Star Wars story), Cocaine Bear (Bear on cocaine) and previewed in Oppenheimer, Alden Ehrenreich turns out to be completely credible as an antagonist. It’s a shame that Hollywood doesn’t seek him out more often, perhaps because of his vague resemblance to Leonardo DiCaprio. Ungrateful, the role of Luke sees the actor decline the range of violence – psychological, physical, sexual – while exuding a desperate, even pathetic side.
The other star of the film is the production, which is surgically precise. Certainly, this portrait of a toxic relationship (and masculinity to match) is racy, but Chloe Domont handles her camera more like a scalpel than a paintbrush.
Much to say
Panting, taking, Fair Play is a psychological thriller, not an erotic one, despite a hot scene at the beginning. We are miles away, in comparison, from the moralizing conservatism of Fatal Attraction (Fatal affair), with his psychopathic mistress, his “poor” fickle husband and his preserved family unit, or even the titillation of Basic Instincteminently fascinating with its bisexual protagonist, but tenuous in the department of the subject.
Conversely, Fair Play has a lot to say. Certainly, the film also has things to show, but not necessarily what we think. And that’s to Chloe Domont’s credit.