On vacation at a villa on the French Riveria, Jean-Paul (Alain Delon) and Marianne (Romy Schneider) spend many an afternoon lazing about the sun-beaten deck and garden surrounding the luxurious swimming pool that is the centerpiece of the estate.  Tensions and passions rise when Marianne invites an old flame, Harry (Maurice Ronet) to join the couple and he brings along his teenage daughter, Pénélope (Jane Birkin).  As Harry becomes more and more bold with his feelings towards Marianne, Jean-Paul begins to turn his affection towards the young Pénélope. 

Released in 1969, La Piscine took the French box office by storm in its melding together of art-house and wide appeal.  It is imbued with star power which makes it instantly enchanting, but their luster is never distracting and remains a stunning work of subtlety that marked the first outing of one of cinema’s greatest duos: the master of crime Jaques Deray and the devilishly handsome Alain Delon. 

Delon is reunited with Ronet which makes La Piscine a fitting bookend with Purple Noon (1960) for this decade of Delon’s career that was defined by two things, especially in these early years: his beauty, and his affinity for crime thrillers.  True to form, Delon spends much of the film showing ample amounts of tanned skin, but what is most striking is his crystal blue eyes.  He always brings great expressiveness to his roles, but La Piscine really tests his ability with how much the script operates in what goes unsaid.  Late in the film, during the climactic end to the second act, Jean-Paul is silent, but through this stony demeanor, Delon manages to make us not only empathize with Jean-Paul and understand him, but also fear him. 

There is very little dialogue in the 122-minute film, but we learn an incredible amount of history that these characters have been through together.  Deray, with Jean-Claude Carrière, adapted Alain Page’s novel of the same name.  While the cast expertly handles the subtext in the narrative, of which there is a lot, Deray and Carrière really make us work as the audience to catch everything that is going on as they sneakily dole out important bits of information that help to contextualize the affairs of the cast. There is a scene towards the middle of the film where the four are at dinner, and while the conversation is sparse, it gives what few words are spoken that much more weight and from the exchange of uncomfortable glances across the table, it is clear the meaning of the words is not lost on the diners.  

Schneider works phenomenally well in these awkward, tense moments.  She always brings an air of collectedness as the two men spar for her attention and affection.  Dressed in impeccable style by André Courrèges, Marianne never sits back and becomes a prize to be won.  She moves with the same deliberateness that Jean-Paul does and her agency in the narrative makes it all the more interesting.  It is not just how the men will try to one-up each other, but it is also how their actions cause Marianne to react either more or less favorably to them.   

This gets a little muddied in the third act when her motivations seem to be a little more predicated on being the good and quiet wifely figure, even though she holds all the power in those final scenes.  It does make for a bit of a weak ending for an otherwise tense and unsettling film.  There are plenty of implications that none of these characters make it out to a happily ever after which can be appreciated, however in those last moments it feels like Deray is unsure of himself and his control over the narrative. 

Despite the slim screenplay and rich style, La Piscine is not without great substance, too.  It is an intimate thriller that takes its time to really set the stage and sow the seeds of jealousy and discontent.  This slow burner is very carefully crafted and surprisingly sinister.  At first, it appears inaccessible but given some time and attention it will reward audiences with a film that can be returned to time and time again and always have new clues to be uncovered.