On a clear day, you can see North Africa from Pantelleria. A small, wind-battered, beautiful volcanic island located in the strait between Sicily and Tunisia, once known as a getaway for the rich — Madonna frequented the island, while Giorgio Armani owned a summer home there — has in recent years become a destination for refugees seeking asylum from Libya. The idyllic paradise, closed off from the outside as if in a bubble, has been punctured by reality.It’s no coincidence that the island provides the setting for “A Bigger Splash,” the new film directed by Luca Guadagnino about shifting desires among the foreign bourgeoisie. Marianne (Tilda Swinton), a rock star who has lost her voice, owns a house there with her reserved boyfriend, Paul (Matthias Schoenaerts). The two are seeking escape, a life of solitude. The opening of the film shows Marianne, dressed in a glittery Ziggy Stardust jumpsuit in front of thousands of screaming fans. We don’t know what happened from there to here, but there is a stark difference. On the island the two lounge naked by the pool and fall asleep with their books down near the ocean.Soon enough that will all change. “A Bigger Splash” is a remake of Jacques Deray’s “La Piscine” (1969), which was set in the French Riviera, and its plot is basically the same. But in titling the film “A Bigger Splash,” Guadagnino is also referencing David Hockney’s painting of the same name, which features a crystal-blue swimming pool set against a modern home, broken up by a splash: the pristine image, composed of straight lines and solid, bright colors, has been disturbed by forces unknown.In the film, we know what is disrupting the closed-off life of the main characters, at least at first. While Marianne and Paul sit at the beach, they get a phone call from Harry (Ralph Fiennes), who has arrived unexpectedly with his daughter, Penelope (Dakota Johnson). Harry is a firecracker — motor-mouthed and vulgar. He used to produce Marianne’s records, and they once had a relationship, although at first we don’t know how serious. But it’s clear that Paul doesn’t want him around, and his sudden appearance has created a network of tension among the characters.Yet there are moments of release, some more explicit than others. Most of what is being said is just a screen for the nexus of looks among the four characters: Is there desire in their eyes or grief, a truth that cannot or will not be explained? Words are used simply to fill the space. There is more truth in the brush of an arm, the holding of a hand, or an elongated glance across the dinner table. In one scene, Harry raids his hosts’ record collection, and starts pulling out Rolling Stones albums, rhapsodizing over his encounters with the group. Throwing the records on the floor, he eventually finds “Emotional Rescue,” and puts on the title song, which sends him into a frenzied dance. He shimmies through the house and out the door, transfixed by the song. As Harry spins, dips, and throws his hands in the air, Mick Jagger sings: “Is there nothing I can say, nothing I can do to change your mind? I’m so in love with you, you’re too deep in, you can’t get out.”Harry thinks the song is speaking for him to Marianne. He wants her back, thinks he can take her back, thinks she needs to come back. But the world has changed, and it’s leaving Harry behind. He treats the world around him as his private party, oblivious to its transformations.Throughout the film, we hear creeping signs of the refugee crisis in the background — on televisions and radios — but it is never explicitly referenced until near the end. Guadagnino has, until this point, used his camera for its emotive possibilities, reveling in the hot, sweaty passions of his characters held up against the beautiful, tormented landscape. So when he zooms out at the end of the film to capture what is happening outside the bubble he has created, it feels clumsy, a ham-handed way to push the film into a relevance that is unnecessary here.
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