Le Piscine (1969), directed by Jacques Deray, is a seductive psychosexual thriller about a glamorous couple—Jean-Paul (Alain Delon) and Marianne (Romy Schneider)—on a summer vacation in the South of France that spirals downward from posh relaxation to violent, internecine conflict. Deray, in this sun-soaked noir, devotes significant developmental time to the couple displaying their beauty. As they lounge around the pool of their opulent, borrowed estate, the tranquility they’re ensconced in looks too good to last. The director, in no hurry, is setting the stage for the forthcoming drama by painting a picture of languid, luxurious bliss, an illusion he’ll then shatter.
Italian director Luca Guadagnino (Call Me By Your Name) did a remake of Le Piscine in 2016, A Bigger Splash, that was set on an Italian island, but he failed to capture the slow-burn power of the original. The most interesting thing about this film is how so many of its weaknesses point out the strengths of the original.
In both films, the summertime languor is disrupted by the unexpected arrival of the couple’s friend, Harry, played by Maurice Ronet in the original and Ralph Fiennes in the loose remake. Guadagnino’s in more of a hurry than Deray to introduce what in dramatic terms is called an “inciting event,” thus diminishing some of the contrast between the initial relaxation and the emotional chaos that Harry incites. The director has to rush, however, because he's going to throw in scenes not found in the original. Moreover, he chooses to have half of his intro take place away from the pool, which is the thematic centerpiece of the film. It's an odd choice.
In 1969, French audiences didn't require an immediate cut to the chase that can rob a drama of much of its tension, while American audiences in 2016 were conditioned to expect a quicker path to gratification. And the leading actors in the remake—Matthias Schoenaerts as “Paul” and Tilda Swinton as “Marianne”—don't provide the gratification of watching Delon, who's perhaps the coolest-looking male movie star in cinematic history, and Romy Schneider, whose stunning beauty is a key element in the story.
Tilda Swinton, quirky rather than sexy, doesn't provide enough for the camera to linger on as she's reclining poolside. Scarlett Johansson would’ve been a better choice in a film hinging on the erotic desire and jealousy surrounding this character. And for some reason, Guadagnino’s chosen to render Marianne, who’s a rock star in his new version, mute for the entire film—she's recovering from throat surgery. Perhaps taking away the voice of the female lead could work in specific situations, but this isn't one of them. It comes off as gimmicky—just one more distraction. As for Schoenaerts, his character has none of Delon’s suave sex appeal. The French actor’s immaculately-dressed, brooding Jean-Paul dominates the screen in Le Piscine without having to say much.
In Le Piscine, friends/rivals Jean-Paul and Harry are on equal footing in the dangerous game they participate in. Harry’s more successful and charismatic, but Jean-Paul still has what it takes to attract a beauty like Marianne, who's Harry’s ex. She's also Delon’s ex in real life, and he lobbied Deray to cast her. Their chemistry is obvious. On the other hand, Fiennes’ Harry dominates Schoenaerts’ Paul from every angle with an acting performance that tries so hard to signal charisma that it veers into caricature. As he tells Paul and Marianne about his recording studio role on a couple of Rolling Stones albums, he dances like a maniac in the living room, and then continues by the pool. There are also flashbacks to when Harry was a music producer for Marianne when they were a couple.
All it takes Deray to establish Harry’s success is to have him put some stylish-sounding jazz he was involved in producing on the turntable for Jean-Paul and Marianne. It's economy in storytelling versus the busy approach. In Le Piscine, Harry's past with Marianne is only hinted at. In the remake, it's spelled out. Nearly everything in the original that's subtle is overt in the remake. In the original, Harry’s physically affectionate with his responsive ex, Marianne, and dances intimately with her during a party at the summer estate while Jean-Paul observes in tense silence. But that's as far as they go. In the remake, of course, Marianne and Harry have sex when Paul’s away.
There's not that much action in either film until the culmination of the late-night drunken fight in the swimming pool between the two “buddies” whose resentments overshadow what affection’s left. The challenge is in holding the viewer’s interest in the meantime, and Deray does it more deftly than Guadagnino in the way he develops tension with his restraint, while the Italian director goes overboard with emotional expression, unnecessary flashback scenes, and political commentary that's intended to add moral weight to the hedonism. It's a summertime noir film, so hedonism, sexual tensions, and the simmering conflicts are enough to drive the story. There's no need for a buzzkill civics lesson on Europe’s border problems.
Some filmmakers remake older films to pay homage to them. Martin Scorsese did this with his version of Cape Fear without trying to reinterpret its themes to reflect modern life as Luca Guadagnino has done here. In the updating process, while he retained the original's narrative spine, the director tinkered with the key elements that made Deray’s film so captivating in its minimalism. While it's to the director's credit that he was bold enough to attempt such an experiment (it's more of a reimagining than a remake), changing all the parts under the hood doesn't necessarily mean the engine will run better.
Had I not seen Le Piscine first, I could’ve found A Bigger Splash entertaining without getting bogged down with comparisons. The cinematography’s beautiful, and the directing is stylish and atmospheric. But Fiennes’ portrayal of Harry is so over the top that it throws the film off kilter, as do the film’s many awkward tone shifts. I much prefer the cool, stripped-down 1960s modernism of Le Piscine that's made it into a cult classic. Deray achieves emotional heat without the pyrotechnics the remake relies on.
Guadagnino went for operatic energy in A Bigger Splash, but let it get out of hand. Remakes don't have to adhere slavishly to the original, but deviations from core elements is risky.