The Perfect Couple review: Netflix goes the HBO way by crafting a murder mystery series that comments on the rich like The White Lotus, has peripheral characters cheekily narrating events that led to the killing like Big Little Lies, and from filmmaker Susanne Bier, who previously directed The Undoing with Nicole Kidman, the lead actor of this new show. Adapted from Elin Hilderbrand’s 2018 bestseller, the limited series might not be as incisive as the HBO shows above, but it’s surely a gripping page-turner that wastes little time.
(Also Read – Ahead of Babygirl, watch Birth: Another Nicole Kidman entry that debuted at Venice Film Festival)
Deja vu?
The similarities to the shows mentioned above aren’t far-fetched, whether tonal or narratively. Like The White Lotus season 2, the murder takes place when Meghan Fahy is swimming near an isolated, high-profile island. Like The Big Little Lies, the marriage of Nicole Kidman’s Nicole Greer is a complicated one, given both she and her husband Tag (Liev Schreiber) can’t leave each other despite their turbulent relationship. Like Celeste (Big Little Lies), Greer is too consumed by people’s perception of her that she doesn’t come out clean on the troubles she’s facing in her marriage.
To make matters worse, Greer is a public figure – she’s a celebrated crime fiction writer, who’s infamous for borrowing liberally from her life. She even has a successful franchise to her credit, inspired from the adventures of her own marriage. As lines between the page and the real life blur, Greer needs to ensure that the Winsburys make for the perfect family, perfect couple, straight out of the ideal American dream. Much to her dismay, her son Benji falls in love with Amelia (Eve Hewson), a modest zoologist, and decides to marry her despite his mother’s reservations. The families, best man, and bridesmaid congregate at their holiday home of Nantucket, before a murder plays spoilsport.
The facade breaks
With the investigation, family secrets spill out – The Winburys aren’t the gold standard as they project themselves to be. When questioned by the police, their staff reveal the latent dynamics of the family, as if they’re the pulpy crime writers in the house, instead of their employer. Greer merely observes – who’s wearing what, who’s reacting to whom and how – like a true-blue chronicler. But how much is she controlling the narrative? Does she have any control over her own narrative, let alone anyone else’s? The only narrative she tries to control is that of her PR – hiring fancy professionals to cover up her family’s dark past. A murder may have taken place in the morning, but she makes sure the whole family dresses up for a family portrait for the press in the afternoon.
Grotia, the maid, gets the best lines on the show. She’s a symptom of the disdain the Winsburys hold for the lesser privileged – she confesses no trust in family friends who clean their own dishes or make their own beds like poor people do. These lines seem straight out of a saucier version of The White Lotus, but unlike that show, The Perfect Couple uses these tropes deceptively to mislead the motive behind the murder. Is it always money? Do the rich only kill so that they can get richer? Or is there more to their motive? Something that’s as green as the money they so dearly hold on to. The perennial cockiness of the rich make them look like easy suspects – they’re cruel, exploitative, and self-centred – but does that make them all murderers?
These are questions one grapples with after watching the show. Because during the course of it, neither the show nor the viewers want to waste a minute on thinking. The pace is unrelenting and the twists are frequent. There’s barely any breathing space, but one doesn’t complain. Nicole Kidman, known quite as the queen of big-screen breakdown, has only one scene in which she gives in to tears. Her default mode is to have her guard up – watch when she cosmetically caresses her lips with a balm as she accepts a consolation message on the phone. Or when she messily yet desperately fastens her bow tie as if forcefully tying up the loose end of her next big crime novel. She’s sharp even in moments of vulnerability, as if she’s just incapable of shining a light on that chink in her armour.
Ishaan Khatter makes his debut as Shooter Dival, the best man at the wedding of Greer’s son. He’s a smooth talker, a ripped charmer, who shakes things up with his entry into the Winsbury household. Ishaan keeps the mystery of his character alive with his economical gestures, but one wishes his dynamic with Nicole Kidman’s character was explored more. It’s an interesting mix of cast, but it’s also the casting that gives the murderer away. The culprit is hiding in plain sight, but the motive is not. The motive, not even spelled out at the end, is what lends The Perfect Couple its jagged edges.