The film is a sentimental/ psychological drama centred on a couple, Jean-Paul (a taciturn Alain Delon) and Marianne (a radiant Romy Schneider), who are holidaying at a friend's villa near Saint-Tropez, in South-Eastern France. They have been together for a couple of years and seem to be very much in love. They are spending their time sunbathing, swimming (in the villa's swimming-pool) and having sex. Their bliss is interrupted, however, when Harry (Maurice Ronet) turns up with his 18-year-old daughter, Penelope (Jane Birkin). Harry is an old friend of Jean-Paul's. The simmering tension between the 2 men is at the heart of the story: it would appear that Harry was Marianne's lover before she met Jean-Paul. As for Penelope, she is not as passive and innocent as she may seem. The movie develops from there.
This is an excellent film. The story is plausible from start to finish. There is nothing dated about the plot or the actors' performance (the film was released in 1969). The psychology of the characters is captured in a manner that is both sharp and subtle. Inexorably, the tension between the characters rises. There is a question that you could ask yourself after seeing the film, and it will keep you thinking for a few days: To what extent are the various characters responsible (or not) for their actions, and for what unfolds? There is no simple answer.
An excellent film, close to being a masterpiece in my opinion, within the parameters of the genre.
Exuding heat—dry, heavy, and suffocating in more ways than one, La Piscene drifts along as slowly as a summer’s day, and at times it’s just as torturous. The tone is oddly matter of fact, which leaves certain events feeling curiously flat—dramatic events brushed on with a cool detachment. It can be a demanding watch, especially compared to Guadagnino’s remake A Bigger Splash, whose seductive swirl is anchored by Ralph Fiennes’ gloriously unhinged charisma—an ingredient sorely missed here.
Still there is much to admire. Set on the sun-drenched French RIviera, it charts a holiday where jealousy, desire and long dormant resentment simmer quietly. Romy Schneider and Alain Delon are magnetic, and Jane Birkin’s wide-eyed presence adds a touch of eerie innocence. The central act—a moment of quiet horror—is a genuine jolt. It’s just a pity the post-climax stretch drags on, like an afternoon that refuses to cool down.
What ultimately rescues the film is its atmosphere. Those shimmering Mediterranean colours, the endless hum of cicadas, the bleached stillness of it all—captures heat not just as weather, but as mood. If A Bigger Splash was named after David Hockey’s painting, this is the sunstroke that inspired it.