Better than sex
A Bigger Splash is a visual feast, echoing every form of passion
A single sexual encounter has a tendency to embody the trajectory of an entire relationship, from the awkward meet to the release of consummation. Echoing that sentiment, the structure of Luca Guadagnino’s A Bigger Splash parallels a night of pleasure, from a tense but exciting buildup to an unexpectedly satisfying climax, taking the movie from sex comedy to film noir and, convincingly, back again.
A Bigger Splash follows Marianne (Tilda Swinton), and Paul (Matthias Schoenaerts), a couple who are visiting an Italian island, but are unexpectedly joined by her former flame, Harry (Ralph Fiennes), who has dragged along his daughter, Penelope (Dakota Johnson).
A rocker with millions of adoring fans, including Harry and Paul, Marianne arrives on vacation with strained vocal cords, keeping her relatively mute through most of the film. And yet, Swinton remains the loudest presence, an object of desire and contention for the two men to mentally and sexually claw over.
But as a restrained, brooding documentarian, Schoenaerts’ Paul is no match for Fiennes’ magnetic Harry, the kind of friend who has a tendency to invite himself on vacations, always loudly telling all the same stories. Each time he spots Marianne canoodling with the sombre Paul, he yanks the attention back to himself, making a concerted effort to show the couple just how much better he knows Marianne, even though he “gave her” to Paul who, in turn, “got her off” Harry.
The nudity and sex in A Bigger Splash are neither gratuitous nor spare, but surprisingly fitting. A visual feast, much like Guadagnino’s I Am Love, also starring Swinton, his frequent muse, the film is a take on Jacques Deray’s La Piscine (starring Alain Delon, the camera’s quintessential object of desire of yore), feeling and sounding like a European 1960s throwback.
A Bigger Splash manages to echo just about every form of passion, in work and thirst for life, in love and hate, in masculinity and femininity, which often causes it to hover in the realm of cliché, including Johnson’s precocious Lolita and Marianne’s irresistible energy.