The Perfect Couple Goes Way Harder Than the Book

As a seasoned observer of the human condition, I find myself both captivated and appalled by the intricate dance of power, privilege, and deception that unfolds in the narrative of “A Perfect Couple”. Having spent years immersed in the lives of the one-percenters, I can attest to the fact that their world is indeed a gilded cage, where appearances are paramount, and the rules of society often bend to accommodate their whims.

In a fresh take on Elin Hilderbrand’s beloved beach novel “The Perfect Couple,” the Netflix adaptation, under the guidance of showrunner Jenna Lamia and director Susanne Bier, takes significant liberties with its source material. While both stories share the fundamental plot: the maid of honor at a wealthy Nantucket family’s wedding is found dead on the morning of the ceremony, making everyone a suspect, the Netflix version delves deeper into eccentricities – such as Tag Winbury’s boisterous rendition of Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” at his wife’s book party – than the book ever ventures. Furthermore, it presents the members of the Winbury family and their substantial wealth with a noticeably critical perspective, which is evident in the resolution of Merritt Monaco’s (Meghann Fahy) murder mystery.

In Hilderbrand’s retelling of the tale, it meticulously clears each affluent character implicated in Merritt’s downfall, even Abby Winbury, the expectant daughter-in-law of Tag and Greer Garrison Winbury, who holds the heaviest burden. Abby, a character barely noticeable in the novel, decides to slip a tranquilizer into a glass of water meant for Featherleigh Dale – yes, that’s her name – with the intention of merely subduing, not eliminating, this British panther turned French siren, Isabel Nallet, portrayed by Isabelle Adjani in the series. Abby is troubled by Tom’s persistent affair with Featherleigh, but as no one in the book commits a truly heinous act, she doesn’t plan to end Featherleigh’s life. Instead, she aims to give her a temporary rest. As a movie enthusiast, I find this twist intriguing and adds an element of suspense to the narrative.

Instead of Merritt accidentally drinking a glass of water laced with drugs, it turns out that the water was unknowingly consumed by her. This tragic event leads to Merritt’s demise as the drugs overpower her body while she attempts to retrieve a ring given to her by Tag, her lover, from the sea. Unfortunately, she drowns in the process. The authorities are unable to solve the mystery and no one is arrested. Only Greer, who knows the truth, harbors this secret, which will remain hidden until their own demise. Hilderbrand writes, “The police have classified Merritt’s death as accidental—and indeed it was an accident. Abby may not even suspect her role in it, while Thomas will likely never connect the dots. The truth about what happened remains with Greer, and will stay that way until they are no more.

Abby’s reason for actions aligns with the underlying message in the book’s title, suggesting that no couple is flawless as they all conceal their imperfections, including seemingly ideal pairs like Greer and Tag, or Thomas and Abby. This theme is also reflected in the novel’s closing lines, which depict Merritt’s final moments: “There it is. She spots it. Much like love, she muses. It remains just out of her grasp.

In Lamia’s adaptation of “The Perfect Couple,” adultery is indeed prevalent, but the story primarily focuses on a different topic: the reprehensible behavior of those from extremely privileged backgrounds. The motive for murder in her narrative stems directly from what typically motivates the Winburys – greed, specifically their obsession with money. A significant plot point introduced in the Netflix series, not present in the original novel version, is that a trust fund’s payout, due to the youngest Winbury son, Will, turning 18 in a few weeks, could disrupt the family’s financial plans. Merritt being pregnant with Tag’s child, as depicted in both the book and the series, poses a threat to this arrangement because it would delay the distribution of funds for another 18 years until Tag’s fourth child grows up. Various Winburys and their associates have valid reasons to not want this child to be born, creating a more compelling motive for murder than the relatively weak desire to punish a husband’s mistress by making her take a prolonged rest.

In Hilderbrand’s book, without the inner thoughts that make characters appear more relatable to readers, each member of the Winbury family appears as an unapologetic self-centered individual who might engage in harmful actions. It’s hard to tell who did it, but like in the novel, it ultimately points to Abby, brilliantly portrayed by Dakota Fanning with a sharp, clever edge.

In the novel, Abby is portrayed as an ambitious sorority girl from a wealthy Texas oil family, the Winburys. She’s surrounded by wealth and seems unaware of the protective bubble it creates for her. The character of Abby, played by Dakota Fanning, is more self-aware compared to other characters. Although she didn’t grow up in the middle class like Amelia (Eve Hewson), who’s supposed to marry Benji Winbury (Billy Howle), her wealth isn’t as ostentatious as the Winburys. She appears to be a social climber, craving approval from her mother-in-law, and frequently makes fun of the opulence around her. Upon entering Greer’s book party, she remarks, “This place looks like Lily Pulitzer threw up everywhere,” showcasing her casual attitude towards luxury. However, she is deeply committed to maintaining a lavish lifestyle and ensuring her husband receives the money he’s owed, going as far as committing murder if necessary.

In the television adaptation of “A Perfect Couple,” nothing is left to chance. As we discover at the end, Abby deliberately put a barbiturate into a glass of cold-pressed orange juice and handed it to Merritt on the beach, who was in distress with a bleeding foot from stepping on glass. Abby says ominously as Merritt drinks her poisoned citrus drink, “If you want something done correctly, you must do it yourself.” Abby proposes a swim; as Merritt begins to lose consciousness, Abby forces her under the water and holds her head there until the woman who could potentially delay her husband’s inheritance can no longer breathe.

The book lacks the ability to delve into the grim aspects – it doesn’t possess the grit for it. Furthermore, it fails to establish the necessary dramatic tension needed to hold its main characters accountable for their actions. Fortunately, this isn’t an issue for the Netflix series! In a highly satisfying scene from The Perfect Couple, the police arrive at the Winbury estate to arrest Abby for Merritt’s murder. Much like any entitled brat would when confronted with the consequences of their actions, she tries to find a way out of it. “I’m pregnant,” she declares arrogantly, as if her pregnancy could shield her from justice. This line is particularly clever due to its underlying message: Abby believes that having Winbury blood will protect her, but in reality, she’s not truly one of them. She’s merely a carrier, a disposable character who screams loudly when told she has the right to remain silent and is taken off the property. However, she’s not genuinely one of them; she’s just pretending.

By Abby’s apprehension, Lamia and her co-authors offer the spectators an unusual experience of justice: a wealthy elite individual receiving the exact retribution they deserve. Remarkably, this version of “The Perfect Couple” keeps the rest of the Winburys untouched by chaos, much like the original book. After Abby’s arrest, it seems as if no one acknowledges her absence at all. Tag is oblivious; he’s so engrossed in trying to hit seagulls with a golf ball that he overlooks the entire incident entirely.

As a dedicated cinephile, I find it intriguing how both adaptations of this story depict the Winburys – Tag, Greer, Tom, Benji (and Will from the Netflix series, who doesn’t appear in the book) – seemingly untouched by the chaos that ensued following the Merritt incident. This feels authentic, mirroring how life often lets the privileged continue their lives unscathed. Interestingly, in the series, Greer undergoes a dramatic transformation in the final moments, revealing her humble past as an escort. This unexpected confession seems to salvage her image at the eleventh hour. In the climactic scene, she reaches out to Amelia, who chooses not to marry Benji. This gesture suggests a deep understanding between them, perhaps rooted in their shared upbringing outside of wealth and privilege.

Greer’s luxurious lifestyle has distanced her from the struggles of the less fortunate. She and her children will always live comfortably. Hilderbrand, as well as the book’s ending, recognize this reality. Similarly, Lamia’s conclusion acknowledges the need for justice in a murder mystery, particularly one featuring affluent yet short-sighted characters. The audience expects someone to be brought to justice, especially an entitled snob being arrested and calling her lawyer. This might have seemed excessive on paper, but in the Netflix adaptation of “The Perfect Couple“, it adds just the right level of tension.

2024-09-07 21:54

The Perfect Couple Goes Way Harder Than the Book

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