I saw it as being a movie about narcissists. And what happens when the image they project of themselves dissolves or deteriorates (violence). “I’m the guy who saves you from this awesomeness.” “I’m the cool girl.” Images of people, not people. No wonder they were miserable.
After five years, the truth comes out. And they both knew it all along, that they were playing roles. Even their relationship is defined as “not like those other couples.” It’s only defined in opposition to other people. Things crumble, they both turn ugly.
Overall, I liked it but didn’t feel good about any of it. The ending is tragic, if a little hard to believe. The FBI doesn’t have any urge to investigate a violent murder of a rich white guy? This super rich white guy doesn’t have a super rich white family that’s calling their senator and asking difficult questions? Nobody even wants to look at the tapes to see that their arrival at the house doesn’t match the timeline of her story at all?
I spent the whole movie trying to remember where I knew the detective (Kim Dickens) from. Oh, Treme. Right. And then I realized she was Joanie Stubbs in Deadwood. I’m really bad at remembering actors.