‘The Perfect Couple’ Review: Nicole Kidman’s Frothy Netflix Murder-Mystery Offers Limited Fun
“The Perfect Couple’s” title sequence is simultaneously the key to appreciating Susanne Bier’s frothy summer mystery and to understanding exactly why I’ve already forgotten it exists. Set to Meghan Trainor’s “Criminals,” the 30-second clip gathers most of the cast in a choreographed dance mimicking a flash mob. There’s Nicole Kidman, right out in front, rhythmically raising her arms above her head. Next to her is Liev Schreiber, looking like a disheveled accountant in a disheveled black suit, his little round glasses as stationary as his self-serious expression. In front of them is Eve Hewson, clapping and spinning in a bright red dress next to “The White Lotus” breakout Meghann Fahy, who caps the routine by sticking out her tongue — a touch of fun, impromptu sass now that the regimented arrangement is over.
Their performance complete, everyone laughs and hugs each other. They’re happy and proud, without being inordinately either. After all, it wasn’t a difficult dance. The moves are rudimentary. They turn, they lean, they slide forward and back. There’s a section in the middle where everyone randomly points at everyone else as Trainor sings, “Call us criminals, criminals, baby.” Maybe that’s when the audience remembers they’re watching a murder-mystery. Each leveled finger and winking gaze could be asking, “Are you the criminal? Are you?” It’s the only reminder in the silly, slack title sequence that one of these dancing queens is playing a character who’s dead. Another is playing the person who killed them. So… why are they all so happy?
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The answer isn’t a less-than-subtle comment about America’s richest assholes, who’ve gotten so cozy under the security blanket of their wealth (and so cut off from actual consequences, like death) that they’re happy to treat a homicide investigation like a parlor game. No, the answer is much more obvious, and much less interesting. It’s that “The Perfect Couple’s” title sequence takes place outside the show’s narrative. You’re not seeing the characters dance. You’re seeing the actors dance. And that distinction — that separation from reality — really matters when it comes to appreciating what the rest of the series does well and what it does poorly.
In a premise as old as time — though revived here with “The White Lotus” and “Big Little Lies” in mind — Netflix’s six-episode adaptation of Elin Hilderbrand’s 2018 beach-read revolves around a murder at a destination wedding that also just so happens to be the groom’s parent’s ocean-view estate. Amelia Sacks (Hewson) is getting married, but her moderately cold feet aren’t feeling any warmth from her chilly future in-laws. You see, the two families come from different worlds. She’s a zoologist from Pennsylvania, whose status among the 99 percent comes through in the colorful screen-printed letters of her Central Park souvenir sweatshirt. They’re the King and Queen of Nantucket, or at least obscenely well-off island dwellers, who’ve been described by their party planner as “kill-someone-and-get-away-with-it rich.”
Nicole Kidman’s Greer Garrison Winbury(!) is a famous author (not unlike Nantucket’s own Hilderbrand), pumping out two books a year for her hoards of white, beach-loving, city-fearing fans. Her greatest success stems from a series inspired by her husband, Tag Winbury — which is his real name in the show, not his character’s name in her books — but the flesh-and-blood Tag (played by Schreiber) isn’t anything worth writing about. He drinks all day, smokes pot in between drinks, and doesn’t do anything. (OK, sometimes he lacquers up his big wooden canoe — not a euphemism.)
Still, they’re happy to host a wedding… or they would have been happy to host a wedding, if not for an inconvenient corpse. What at first appears to be a casualty of too much fun the night before the big day soon becomes an official murder durder situation, complete with a sobbing woman cradling the dead body in her arms and a lead investigator sporting an inconsistent Long Island accent (Donna Lynn Champlin, done dirty by her extra shabby wardrobe, makeup, and dialogue).
So who did it? Was it the jealous groom, Benji (Billy Howle)? His muscly doofus of an older brother, Thomas (Jack Lowden)? Thomas’ unabashedly spoiled wife, Abby (Dakota Fanning)? The quiet best man / only person of color invited to the wedding, Shooter (Ishaan Khattar)? The hyper-horny younger brother, Will (Sam Nivola)? The aggressively French family “friend,” Isabel (Isabelle Adjani)? Or maybe it’s one of the staffers, guests, or other less-moneyed folks floating through the island town?
“The Perfect Couple” invites you to guess the killer, without ever providing enough information to make any such guess an educated one. Instead, it doles out plenty of red herrings and petty disputes to keep the melodrama nice and sudsy. The main location (Winbury Mansion) provides the requisite house (and beach) porn. The actors add their own flourishes of entertainment — Schreiber gets a montage of people talking about how hot he looks (and makes the most of it), Lowden savors the humor in playing an oblivious rich kid who isn’t as self-aware as he thinks — and all that is entertaining, to an extent. But nothing lasts, in the short- or long-term. Intriguing side plots get cut off. Curious character arcs stop short. Any kind of class commentary is negated by the show’s obvious devotion to making sure you like this family.
Which brings us back to the titles, to the dance, to its tone-setting bluntness and glaring imperfections. After watching an episode or two, it’s clear that even though everyone is still dressed like their characters, they’re not in character. Schreiber’s daydrunk dad (named, again, Tag Winbury) would be too high to remember any of the steps. Quite the opposite, Kidman’s perfectionist wife would refuse to settle for these half-assed shimmies. Lowden’s lazy lug of a trust-fund kid wouldn’t participate in anything so… collaborative, and his wife wouldn’t (couldn’t?) flash a smile with such joy, because the only joy she gets comes at someone else’s expense.
These are just the actors, and they’re dancing just for the hell of it. Rather than offer any insight into the mystery supposedly at the core of “The Perfect Couple,” the title sequence steers you in the exact opposite direction. It tells you to relax. Don’t worry about what any of this means. Just turn off your brain, kick off your shoes, and have fun!
But telling someone to have fun isn’t the same as providing fun for them to have. “The Perfect Couple” nails the frivolous feeling of fading summer days, when you’re at the last destination wedding of the year and all you want to do is savor the good weather and stunning scenery while you can. But like a do-nothing getaway undone by a lack of basic planning, the series puts too much trust in its pretty surroundings and equally handsome cast to carry the trip. Ultimately, there’s nothing they can do when the views grow stale, what they’re saying lacks wit, and what they’re doing proves insubstantial.
“The Perfect Couple” isn’t well cared for, and that inattention is evident in the opening titles as much as the episodes surrounding them. The dance is screaming, “Look how much fun we’re having!” but given any scrutiny whatsoever, it’s obvious how little effort went into its creation (especially compared to similar yet infinitely more meaningful titles seen elsewhere). The same can be said of the show, which asks you to like its characters because of the celebrities playing them, rather than to recognize how awful these people are in spite of their pretty faces and lavish surroundings. “The Perfect Couple” is made to look like a good time — and maybe it can be, if you bring your own party — but there’s even less here than meets the eye.
Grade: C-
“The Perfect Couple” premieres Thursday, September 5 on Netflix. All six episodes will be released at once.
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