Swimming Pool (2003) from Johnny Web (Uncle Scoopy; Greg Wroblewski) |
Spoilers, but it doesn't matter. If you have read have some articles about and/or reviews of Swimming Pool in America, you are probably completely deceived about the nature of this film, as I was yesterday. It is not a thriller of any kind. In fact, nothing even vaguely mysterious happens until 72 minutes into the film. It is, on the surface, a slow moving character-driven psychological crime mystery of the type that used to dominate the episodes of The Twilight Zone or Alfred Hitchcock Presents, more suggestion than delivery, complete with the requisite twist at the end that explains many of the plot elements that seemed particularly clumsy. You see, those plot devices were clumsy for a reason. |
It turns out that this is not even a crime mystery, but simply an analysis of the creative thought process that goes into creating such a mystery. In fact, I've actually spoiled the whole film for you already, but watch it anyway, because, trust me, you have no idea what I am talking about, and will not even realize why I've spoiled it until the film is over and you've re-read these words. |
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And even then you may not understand what I mean, or you may not agree with my interpretation. Frankly, I'm at a loss to explain the love affair between this film and the American arty set, led by the critics. The British critics were not enthusiastic at all, averaging 2.6 stars out of four, according to the Guardian's estimates. Two and a half stars is about where I would peg it as well. Maybe three. Maybe. There is lots of good news:
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Like many a psychological mystery, especially European ones, the pace is glacial at the beginning. It never fires up to hot rod speed, but it does pick up, and I think many of you will enjoy this. |
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