Cinematic marriages crumbling under the weight of betrayal or madness have fascinated the filmgoing community since the art form began.  While no two couples face the same unique circumstances (the spatting duo in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? are pretty different from the sparring one in The Shining), the domestic discontent in titles like Fatal Attraction and Gone Girl keeps viewers on their toes if only to continue to peek over the fence to see what their neighbors are up to.

Appearing at the 15th Annual Twin Cities Film Festival as a Spotlight Film, the neo-noir thriller conceived by star Daisy Ridley and written by her husband Tom Bateman (her co-star in 2017’s Murder on the Orient Express), is great fun. Magpie follows a familiar pattern of presenting cracks in a seemingly picture-perfect family.  The difference with this intelligent, simmering mystery is that the more you peel back the layers of lies and manipulation, the more you realize you are being toyed with…and maybe even more than the characters onscreen.  

To look at them, Ben (Shazad Latif, What’s Love Got to Do with It?) and Anette (Ridley, The Marsh King’s Daughter) have it all.  He’s a lauded writer whose next work is eagerly anticipated, and while she left her job in publishing to raise their two children, she’s considering re-entering the workforce at her old London firm.  Living far from the city to avoid distraction so Ben can write, what appears idyllic is an unresolved tension between the couple that has been building for years.

When their young daughter Matilda (Hiba Ahmed) is cast in a film shooting near their house, Ben volunteers to take a break from his writing (that he hasn’t begun) to be her chaperone on the set. Meanwhile, Anette is informed by Ben the day shooting begins he has sacked their nanny, and she’ll be caring for their infant son.  Matilda is filming with the magnetic Italian actress Alicia (Matilda Lutz, Revenge), who is currently involved in a scandal due to her private videos being released to the public.

It becomes clear early on that Ben has a wandering eye, and it lands directly on Alicia.  How he thinks he’d waltz onto the set and romance a world-famous actress is anyone’s guess (this isn’t Notting Hill, and he’s no Hugh Grant), but the bravado is oddly admirable at first.  Soon, we get the full press of Ben’s disdain not only for his wife but also for his lack of compassion for his children or anyone who stands in his way of getting what he wants.  It’s all part of a larger game of deception where each player is running their own table and no one is exactly who they appear to be.

Beginning the film as a seemingly fragile housewife with a volcanic rage bubbling underneath, Ridley does wonders with subtle gestures and curated glances that can be interpreted in many ways.  Is Anette truly unsettled by what’s happening around her and Ben’s continued mistreatment, or is it all a façade she’s put up as a distraction?  There’s an artfulness to how she lets the air out of her character, making each move unpredictable as she takes steps to regain power. 

I don’t envy Latif in the weeks after Magpie is released because he will get bonked by many pocketbooks and handbags while he’s out and about.  Ben’s sleazy charm and selfishness make him not just a bad husband but a bad father, too.  Latif never blinks as he leans fully into the character, relishing each moment of moral decline.  It’s a captivating performance but infuriating all the same.  She’s tasked with a tricky role that only becomes clearer later, but Lutz is a terrific catalyst that turns the dial on the disintegration of Ben’s marriage.  A willing player or not, she’s far from the stereotype she could have been, and Bateman (Death on the Nile) manages to make her a complex character amidst the unfolding drama.  Young Ahmed is also quite good, wise to the goings on around her, but intelligent enough to stay out of the way of the storm brewing.

Director Sam Yates makes his feature debut after gaining accolades in the London theater community.  This theatrical background is likely why so much of the movie feels claustrophobic, not stagey, but uncomfortably confined.  Many close-ups put you into the action, much like a production on stage invites you into whatever space the actors are working on.  The less-is-more approach can be foreign to most stage directors, but Yates knows exactly how to get to the minutiae of each character, amplifying its overall intensity.  Add to that Isobel Waller-Bridge’s slithery score, and you can clearly see the coming disaster but are powerless to stop it.

The combined vision of Ridley, Bateman, and Yates has created a harmonious but taut atmosphere that allows Magpie to routinely be charged with a quiet menace.  The looming implosion feels both inevitable and shocking when it finally arrives.  The final act doesn’t disappoint, delivering a deliciously dark confrontation that’s as disturbing as it is satisfying. Without giving too much away, Ridley’s execution of the last five minutes is like a series of gut-punch moments that leave you stunned as the credits roll.

Proving that the scariest part of a relationship isn’t always the threat of infidelity—it’s the lengths we’ll go to preserve our illusions of perfection, Yates’ formidable debut, backed by Ridley and Bateman’s confident collaboration, ensures Magpie will stick with you long after the final frame fades to black.  Don’t be surprised to find yourself yelling at the screen one minute and biting your nails the next because when it’s over, it leaves a haunting echo that’s hard to shake.