REVIEW: Fair Play [2023]

Rating: R | Runtime: 113 minutes
Release Date: September 29th, 2023 (USA)
Studio: Netflix
Director(s): Chloe Domont
Writer(s): Chloe Domont

You know it’s just a game.

I was so worried throughout the entirety of Chloe Domont’s feature debut Fair Play that a pivot was on the horizon. This type of rapidly escalating relationship-centered drama way too often finds itself desperate to go “both sides” about the subject without recognizing that doing so only facilitates the inequality. There needs to be a very clear division where fault is concerned. That doesn’t mean the other party is innocent as far as letting emotion provoke an in-kind reaction, but their culpability is nothing compared to the level earned by the true culprit.

And yet we want that moment of recognition for the latter to take stock even if reconciliation proves impossible. We shouldn’t. We should be yelling for Emily (a fantastic Phoebe Dynevor) to run as far away from Luke (Alden Ehrenreich) as possible the moment we realize his anger at overhearing the co-worker rumor mill speculate she slept her way to a promotion targets her for its potential rather than them for propagating a blatant lie. Because if he doesn’t laugh that impulse away before apologizing for the lapse of judgment and rededicating himself to trusting the woman he loves, there’s no going back.

Emily doesn’t, though. That would be too easy. Domont creates a story to not only expose how deep-seated patriarchal norms are in corporate culture, but to also honestly portray how its victims will often attempt to believe those hurting them most are still worth saving. And it’s so much more potent when the usual gender roles are reversed. So much more glaringly unavoidable to admit. Because no one thinks anything is wrong when Luke is primed to be the one to help advance Emily’s career at the investment firm where they work (and where romantic relationships are forbidden).

That’s the beauty of what happens on-screen. It’s why some people will probably watch Fair Play and earnestly state that Emily is just as bad as Luke. They’ll say she patronizes him. Emasculates him. They’ll paint her as a villain for doing the exact same things they’d champion him for if the power dynamic were switched and he became her boss. And you know those same people will feel just like Luke does after a violent climax that fully severs Emily and his bond seconds after it seemed they might inexplicably forget and forgive. Those people won’t understand what comes next.

But we do. We realize it’s all been a giant gaslit revenge plot in Luke’s mind. Sabotage not to take what he believes is his, but to destroy what she has rightfully earned. All the jabs presented as “advice” are meant to force her to question the very thing he says she needs in the workplace because she already has it in spades. And if she questions it there, she’ll question it at home too. She’ll let him grab the upper hand. Let him use the tools he’s been studying to better position himself in business to dominate her instead—the real reason he’s been taking notes in the first place.

It’s why the final scene is so good. All this time Luke has been desperate to ape the attitudes and personas of the revolving door of empty suits who cry or scream when they get fired rather than appreciate true strength isn’t in theatrics. It’s in the work. It’s through respect. Don’t therefore sleep on Eddie Marsan’s performance as their boss Campbell. This is Ehrenreich’s and especially Dynevor’s show, but his pragmatic cutthroat exposes the real reason the Lukes of the world have such short shelf lives. Greed allows the Campbells a modicum of contrition if performance warrants it. Insecurity rules the Lukes with nothing but rage. It blinds them from acknowledging their self-inflicted destruction.