Italian director Luca Guadagnino’s “A Bigger Splash” is a
feast for the senses — one whose seductive pleasures can barely conceal the
dark heart that beats underneath. Based loosely on Jacques Deray’s
1969 film “La Piscine” — and using a summery color palette lifted from the
David Hockney painting with which it shares a name — the
film gleefully cavorts its way through various tones and genres. It’s a
thriller, technically, though Guadagnino takes his time getting to the thrills,
content to let viewers bask in the gorgeous scenery and the beautiful people
who occupy it.
Tilda
Swinton stars as world-famous, Bowie-esque rock star
Marianne Lane. Shacked up in a villa on the Sicilian island of Pantelleria, Marianne is recuperating from vocal surgery
under the doting care of her boyfriend, Paul (a sensitively brooding Matthias
Schoenaerts). The couple’s idyllic existence in paradise is interrupted by the
unexpected arrival of an old friend: Marianne’s former producer and ex-lover,
Harry (Ralph Fiennes).
Pure id,
Harry enters like a hurricane, wreaking havoc on what was intended as a time
for healing and relaxation (the phone call proclaiming his imminent arrival
comes in just as his plane meaningfully casts its massive shadow over the
blissfully sunbathing couple). Adding to the awkwardness is the fact that
Harry’s brought along Penelope (Dakota Johnson), the teenaged daughter whose
existence he only recently discovered.
Sexual
tensions simmer in just about every direction you can imagine as jealousy and
deception rear their heads and things begin to take a darker turn for the
dysfunctional quadrangle. All the while, the characters remain oblivious to the
region’s ongoing migrant crisis, which serves as background noise to their own
petty dramas. As an exploration of the perils of first world privilege, this
aspect of the plot is intriguing, if somewhat underdeveloped.
On doctor’s
orders, Marianne is to refrain from speaking. Though Marianne can whisper when
she deems it necessary (mostly to talk conspiratorially with Paul during the
rare moments they’re alone), Swinton’s performance is almost completely
wordless. Being unable to speak above a whisper does nothing to temper
Swinton’s ability to be completely captivating on screen.
Fiennes is
an over-the-top delight. With his nonstop chatter, Harry is not far off from
the gregarious M. Gustave of “The Grand Budapest Hotel,” albeit with more
malicious intent. Fiennes’ lengthy, uninhibited dance to The Rolling Stones’
“Emotional Rescue” is a film highlight.
Johnson’s
sultry Penelope is the film’s most opaque character; she’s all the more
menacing for being the sole character who plays her true intentions close to
the chest.
As he
demonstrated with “I Am Love,” Guadagnino is a director of tactile visions: You
can practically feel the sun and the sweat from bodies waiting to collide with
one another, through either an act of sex or violence (or both). The lush,
sun-drenched cinematography from Yorick Le Saux contrasts against the film’s murky morality.
Highlighting every gesture, movement, and glance, editor Walter Fasano
contributes even more to the film’s sense of intimacy than any of the
considerable amounts of flesh on display.
Opening
during a season that promises to deliver a tidal wave of superheroes, sequels,
and reboots, the adult pleasures of “A Bigger Splash” offer a refreshing
alternative for more adventurous audiences.
This article appears in Jun 1-7, 2016.
