‘That’s the bare minimum mate. Don’t pat yourself on the back for that...’
I’ve been watching a bunch of old ’90s domestic thrillers in recent times for reasons best left unexplored. But I have been watching them nevertheless. One thing I have enjoyed about them is how adult they feel. In a world in which grown men walk about in Transformers t-shirts, watching a film about a marriage falling apart is strangely comforting. It feels like you don’t get that kind of adult-orientated cinema in multiplexes these days. The Nest certainly belongs to that tradition, and as such, I enjoyed it…
Rory O’Hara (Jude Law) is a fraud. He knows it. His wife (Carrie Coon) knows it. And yet they continue with the charade that they are a successful, powerful couple even as their life falls apart around them. Moving to a massive English country house with massive rent does nothing to help matters.
I love Jude Law, me. He’s dashing and charming and charismatic, but boy is his character a piece of shit in this film. Luckily, that’s how he’s written on the page. Desperate. Conniving. In denial. The kind of guy that will regurgitate something he read in the newspaper about some hot theatre production and pass it off as his own opinion. Very early on, Carrie Coon’s Allison – Rory’s long-suffering wife – decides she isn’t going to put up with his shit anymore and starts rebelling. The scenes that the two actors share crackle with a mutual loathing one minute and an undeniable passion the next, and this is lucky because there isn’t much in the way of story here. Sean Durkin, directing from his own script, creates a pair of incredibly compelling characters and then doesn’t give them much to do. The low-key conclusion is frankly insulting after such a stellar build-up.
The Nest is worth watching for a pair of great lead performances but it still feels like a missed opportunity overall. A shame.