Netflix Murder Mystery The Perfect Couple Struggles to Stay Afloat
Photo Courtesy of Netflix
You’ve seen all the beats before: a lavish estate owned by upper-crust socialites, a cast of eccentric characters with dubious morals, and a big party being spoiled by a murder most foul. Following in a long line of whodunits, The Perfect Couple is a six-episode Netflix miniseries that draws on each of these familiar ideas as it leans on the star power of Nicole Kidman and Liev Schreiber to stand out from the pack. But while they do offer great performances (and it’s often amusing to watch these generally deplorable modern aristocrats become tangled in an increasingly convoluted web of messy romantic relationships and motives), as the series goes on, it fails to rise above the tide, eventually drowning in the sea of similar, better-told murder mysteries.
The story follows the Winburys, a wealthy Nantucket family helmed by Greer (Nicole Kidman), a famous novelist who keeps her sons in line, and Tag (Live Schreiber), an old-money patrician who spends most of his time smoking weed and hitting golf balls at seagulls. Entering the hornet’s nest is Amelia (Eve Hewson), a non-blue blood zoologist who’s set to marry Benji (Billy Howle), one of the Winbury sons, to Greer’s dismay. But right before they can tie the knot, you guessed it, someone from the wedding party is found dead in the water.
When it comes to our suspects, they’re an unevenly presented bunch. As mentioned, Kidman gives a standout performance as Greer, whose vigilant eye towards her family and obsession with presentation belie deeper secrets. Her and Schreiber’s on-screen chemistry is wonderfully rancid, as betrayals and previous wrongs add to this toxic stew of warped dependency. This family drama is where this series is at its best, and watching as the Winbury’s carefully maintained façade shatters during chaotic dinner scenes and book signings gone wrong makes for satisfying schadenfreude. As Thomas Winbury, Jack Reynor carries on his streak from Midsommar of deftly portraying an insufferable guy (he was the a-hole boyfriend in that flick), the worst brother of the bunch whose rich kid antics will have you shaking your head. His wife is similarly the worst, a two-faced bully played well by Dakota Fanning.
However, while there is fun to be had in watching these terrible people get some comeuppance, this story largely fails to wring out any deeper drama. Much of the problem comes down to our main character, Amelia, who is relatively sidelined, as she’s not given the agency or screentime to make an impact. On the one hand, she frequently comes across like the only genuine person in the bunch—she harbors deep feelings of grief for the murder victim, and there are some compelling scenes of her questioning her upcoming marriage—but in the end, she’s not much of a factor in the central mystery.
Overall, the series fails to ground us in her perspective, even though she’s supposed to be the one person you care about in the middle of this tangled disaster. She eventually becomes the center of a half-baked love triangle that feels like it’s supposed to overlap with the series’ sarcastic title, but again, this thread doesn’t have enough room to breathe and barely connects to the larger murderous plot.