A classy cast and production design to die for are the only features of note in an underpowered tale of adultery and intrigue in ’50s America. Chris Cooper is the working stiff who’s so anguished over his affair with Rachel McAdams that he’d rather kill his wife (Patricia Clarkson) than ’fess up to her. Pierce Brosnan, meanwhile, is the dapper pal who looks on ironically as he prepares to pounce on his addled chum’s squeeze. Since they’re both twice her age it’s hard to guess what she sees in either of them, or indeed what any of the stars saw in a movie that veers so erratically between arch satire, Hitchcockian suspense and Mad Men pastiche – other than that it comes from Forty Shades Of Blue director Ira Sach. Like Rachel’s bottle-blonde barnet, the strained result feels both false and wrong.