July
2, 2003, 10:10 a.m. Fear
in a French Summer
Seen
Swimming.
e
would appreciate your not revealing the film's secrets," implores
the press kit for Swimming
Pool, the new movie-and the first in English by acclaimed
French director François Ozon. This leads one to expect spectacular
plot twists of the kind that are prevalent, yet rarely convincing, in
American suspense movies; but what Swimming Pool offers, overall,
is not plot zigzags but a sustained atmosphere of fear, a journey of utterly
believable eeriness.
Charlotte Rampling-breathtakingly
beautiful at 58-plays British mystery writer Sarah Morton, depressed about
her work and her life. She takes up her publisher's offer of a vacation
at his mansion in the French countryside; he won't be there himself, so
she will have peace and quiet for her work. But shortly after Sarah arrives,
she is joined by a surprise visitor: the publisher's loud and slutty French
daughter, Julie (Ludivine Sagnier).
The exteriors in this film are every bit as gorgeous and idyllic as they
were in another impressive movie about a person trying to write a book
in picturesque isolation: Stanley Kubrick's The Shining. And while
Swimming Pool doesn't offer the explicitly bloody terror of Kubrick's
masterpiece, it does capture pretty much the same feeling: the worry that
one is either the object of a horrible conspiracy or-worse-going mad.
Rampling is equally capable of playing frumpy and sexy, warmly vulnerable
and harshly practical; she is therefore perfect for this part. The viewer
shares to a level rarely achieved-in the emotional suspense endured
by the film's protagonist. She has written suspense novels; we have seen
suspense movies. We are savvy about the twist possibilities, but we get
the sense that our main character is, too.
This is a film whose payoff does not come at the end, though there are,
naturally, surprises of a kind in the denouement. It is, rather, a journey
to be enjoyed equally at all points along the way, a beautiful windswept
French summer with all the beauty of tenderness and dread.