Written and directed by Sean Durkin
Starring Jude Law, Carrie Coon, Charlie Shotwell and Oona Roche
Running time: 1 hour and 47 minutes
MPAA Rating: R for language, sex, nudity

by Audrey Callerstrom

The Nest had to take place in the 1980s, and not just because Jude Law looks good in dad jeans. The Reagan era promised lower taxes and the American Dream, as long as you were willing to work for it. You powered forward in the highest-earning job you could find, and if you gave more to your children than what you grew up with, that was called “success.” This is the story behind The Nest, writer/director Sean Durkin’s follow-up to 2011’s Martha Marcy May Marlene. The Nest introduces us to dad Rory (Jude Law), a British ex-pat who lives in the U.S. with his wife Allison (Carrie Coon), her daughter Samantha (Oona Roche) and their son, Ben (Charlie Shotwell). They live a seemingly happy life in the suburbs with a large home. Rory works as an entrepreneur/broker type while Allison works at a horse stable and teaches riding lessons (the WASP-iest hobby). Samantha does gymnastics; Ben and Rory play rough-and-tumble catch in the backyard. “Dad cheated!” Ben chirps. Allison is beautiful; Ben is successful.

One day Rory wakes up Allison and tells her that the market in the U.S. is “drying up” (for what, or what exactly Rory does, isn’t clear) and there’s an opportunity for him in London. At first glance, Carrie Coon appears to be portraying a dependent, sycophantic wife, but when Rory tells her they need to move to London, she snaps at him. “Go fuck yourself.” Still, the whole family uproots their life for Rory, moving to London to lease a dark, empty mansion with way more space than they will ever need. The Nest is not a horror movie, but the home in London acts like a haunted house, causing the family to behave strangely. Everyone turns lonely, miserable and distant. Allison is late dropping the kids off to school; Samantha gets involved with a crew of ne’er-do-wells; Rory’s huge opportunity isn’t panning out the way he planned. What happened to that American Dream again?

Although the latter half of the movie is filled with tension, everything up until then is quite dull. The film is scored with what appears to be soft jazz, something that would belong in an early Woody Allen movie. It doesn't work here. Durkin uses shots from afar of people outside the mansion, or of Allison at the stable. A static shot from hundreds of feet away. Why? It’s boring to look at and it causes the film to drag. It’s not clear what exactly Rory does; his work conversations are peppered with phrases like “I didn’t like their terms” and “Let’s find common ground.” It is, I guess, sales of some sort? For a film that takes place in the 1980s, what his job is should be relevant, but it’s vague. It’s clear from the first moment we meet Rory that he is an entitled nit with a head full of nonsense, so it’s unsurprising to watch how things unfold. The only sympathy we ever have for him occurs when he reunites with his estranged mother (Anne Reid) who gives no reaction to the news that he has a grandson for her to meet. “I missed so much,” she says. “What’s the point?” Meanwhile, Allison is a more complicated character. Her discontent with Rory grows slowly, starting from the moment he proposes the idea of London. She withdraws from her children and vice versa. Her only companion is her horse, Richmond, which Rory had shipped to her from across the ocean.

Carrie Coon is the film’s standout, particularly in dinner scenes with Rory, where she’s expected to act a certain way, have her meal ordered for her and make him look good. She does not do that. She’s smarter than Rory; she knows how to save money, which she stashes away in a hidden box. She doesn’t want to keep up with the Joneses. “You’re embarrassing,” Rory tells Allison over a fancy dinner as she takes a swig of wine from the bottle. “You’re exhausting,” she slings back. Their back and forth spats are the moments when the film jolts to life. A scene where Allison leaves dinner to get drunk and dance alone in a bar is another memorable one. For fans of Carrie Coon, who had a supporting role in Gone Girl in addition to her roles in TV’s The Leftovers and Fargo, you will enjoy her time on screen. She has a certain restrained energy that makes her outbursts unpredictable, and it’s fun to watch her unleash at Rory. But as a whole, it’s hard to recommend a full, nearly two-hour film for a handful of standout scenes.

Available to watch in select theaters starting today, more info here.