Challengers Review: A Heated, Heady Spectacle With Poignant Vulnerability

Luca Guadgnino's Challengers walks the fine line between ambition, lust, and desperation, examining how quickly the flames of passion dull when there's nothing left to fight for and no one left to compete against.

Tennis is Guadagnino's playground to explore this. We watch as the seemingly meandering sport designed for rich people to assemble in their cleanest clothes evolves into a heated, heady spectacle dripping in sweat.

There's violence and history in every hit. There's sensuality in every shot. Silk shirts ripple intentionally, muscles are to be focused on, and the way the wind blows someone's skirt is an artful craft designed specifically for the watchful eyes of one character and, simultaneously, the empowerment of another.

Guadagnino has established himself as a master of intentionality. Whether it be a line delivery, the intricate sound design of fabric, the placement of hands, or a piece of fruit in the frame, each snapshot from Challengers is a film studies class waiting to happen on how to make each and every detail of a scene count.

Justin Kurtizkes' debut screenplay is a triumph. The opening favors silence, allowing us to learn about our characters the same way we measure the temperament of an animal: through observation. Zendaya, Josh O'Connor, and Mike Faist could've run the whole film without saying a word, and the message would've been received loud and clear.

Kurtizkes understands the inherent animalistic drive behind desire, whether it be for love or ambition. There may not be a more successful attempt on screen in recent times to illustrate how there is and never will be a greater aphrodisiac than competition.

Great work comes from competition with the self. Great lust comes from competition with another. Tashi, Art, and Patrick each inhabit varying degrees of the desire to be great and the desire to be wanted, and it makes for electric chemistry on screen. Like watching a science experiment play out in real-time, we see how their varying appetites for each create conflict. We watch through the lens of uncomfortable close-ups, and when the camera dares to inch out, we lean in, desperate to be close to the heat once more.

Just as Tashi, Art, and Patrick are playing physical and metaphorical games with each other the entire runtime, Guadagnino is playing the same games with us. When we're aching for the film to reach its climax, he makes the bold decision to slow down, and every tension-riddled second that ticks by makes it so worthwhile when that all-important Chekhov's gun gets its reveal.

For all its bravado, Challengers is harboring some poignant vulnerability. It discusses how we build identities for ourselves that can be snatched away at any second by circumstances beyond our control. A generation is building its identity in an age where self-branding and promotion are part of the curriculum in schools, and Challengers serves as a cautionary tale of what can happen when we hide our treasure in fragile things.

Guadagnino honors the beauty found in someone seeing our flaws and wanting us because of them, not despite them. Tashi has spent her adolescence capitalizing on her ruthless purpose, and when that suddenly is no longer a viable option, that hunger doesn't dissipate. It just manifests in new ways.

Tashi may be the sun in which Patrick and Art orbit around, but each actor is having a field day with the nuances they can lean into. It's always challenging to master the fine line between likability and relatability in characters, but the relentless pursuit of primal instinct is enough for the audience to identify with.

The perfect marriage of Kurtizkes' screenplay and Guadagnino's sensitive understanding of the complexity of human nature is the magic of Challengers. It is the definition of every facet of filmmaking working in harmony to create a masterful examination of philosophy, human nature, and what can happen when you synthesize the craft of filmmaking with the human senses.

Like Tashi desperately wants to witness a good tennis match, audiences starving for a good film will have their hunger satiated – even if it leaves them feeling ravenous.