Dir. Sean Durkin. 107 minutes.
4/5
The marvelously named Rory O’Hara (Jude Law) is a quick-talking investment banker who has it all: a beautiful and sophisticated wife (Carrie Coon) two children and a thoroughbred horse, all of which he keeps tucked away at his spacious country estate. But Rory’s success is built on air: as his business schemes come up short, he struggles to scrape together enough money to keep the lights on at his mansion, and to maintain the illusion of success in the eyes of his family.
No, it’s not an innovative premise. At this point, we’ve elegized the American Dream for longer than we celebrated it. But this is an outstanding rendition of a familiar standard: Jude Law is full of wiry energy, a man hanging on by his fingernails. Unlike other rise-and-fall films such as “Scarface” and “The Wolf of Wall Street,” “The Nest” gives us a low-key version of the good life. Rory doesn’t drive a Lamborghini or shove Quaaludes up his nose: all he really wants is to be able to put on a tuxedo and tell people that he owns horses and is sending his son to an elite private school. Rory’s agonized lust for prosperity is more touching because it’s relatively modest.
Director Sean Durkin adopts a remote viewpoint, studying his characters with the kind of cool detachment that signals something terrible will eventually happen to them. The claustrophobia of “The Nest” is tantalizing even — perhaps especially — after we’ve spent nine months confined in our own little boxes. However, after 100 minutes of such exquisitely uncomfortable buildup, the inevitable award-bait climax, with everyone crying and yelling at one another, is no more than adequate.
