For the past year, Sandra, a German writer, her French husband Samuel, and their eleven-year-old son Daniel have lived a secluded life in a remote town in the French Alps. When Samuel is found dead in the snow below their chalet, the police question whether he committed suicide or was killed. Samuel's death is treated as suspicious, presumed murder, and Sandra becomes the main suspect. Little by little the trial becomes not just an investigation of the circumstances of Samuel's death, but an unsettling psychological journey into the depths of Sandra and Samuel's conflicted relationship.

 

The proposition of Anatomy of a Fall is promising: a taut, physiological thriller that twists you further and further into the lives and loves of its tale, abounding in bluff and red herrings, for the finale to finally reveal the shocking truth at the centre of it all. 

 

But instead Anatomy of a Fall follows a more conservative and dramatic route. While this largely works narratively speaking, where red herrings are very quickly dealt with and resolved, you can’t help but shake the feeling that you’ve been slightly hoodwinked. This isn’t the murder mystery thriller that you were promised. 

 

That’s not to say that the delve into the relationship dynamics between Sandra and Samuel isn’t considered, layered, and intriguing both in its dramatic depictions and the themes and questions it raises. There is much to be said and explored here: sexuality, power dynamics in romantic relationships, guilt, forgiveness, and feminism. 

 

Sandra Huller leads the cast magnificently with a thoroughly riveting performance that simmers with power in all of her characters triumphs, flaws, and contradictions. 

 

While Anatomy of a Fall doesn’t particularly deliver on its premise of a riveting thriller, it's at its strongest when it delves into the relationship dynamics of its main characters.