Sun’s out and we are headed into outdoor season. With eighty-degree weather coming this early, that spring fever has been blasted into overdrive. The old joke persists that Chicagoland residents don’t have more than two seasons. And upon the drive to work, men in hard hats and caution lights block the roadways. While sitting in traffic, I could see some local tennis courts filled with would-be athletes practicing. I remember getting my racket and friends to do just the same. But I never had the same fervor as others. Certainly not like the characters we find in Challengers.
Luca Guadagnino is a strange fit for such genres as the sports movie. Up until now, his focus has been on small independent dramas. Call Me By Your Name is the film you are mostly likely to remember. However, he has amassed a large body of work by now, ranging from character pieces like I Am Love to horror like his remarkable remake of Suspiria or 2022’s Bones and All. However, nothing before has really prepared me for what he accomplished here.
We are introduced slowly over the two hour and eleven-minute runtime to three key figures. Tashi Duncan (Zendaya) is married to a champion turned also-ran Art Donaldson (Mike Feist). They are living in hotels and she tries to manage his sagging career. They have a daughter, however, parenting doesn’t seem to be their primary function in life; winning is. Another in this menage a trois is Patrick Zwick (Josh O’Connor), a rich kid and former tennis phenom who has now amounted to nothing more than a punchline. Both Art and Patrick find themselves at a match in New Rochelle, New York with hopes of saving what’s left. This is where we find ourselves at the start.
Flashing back, Luca and writer Justin Kuritzkes present us what has brought our main characters to this point. Through a brilliant use of script coordination, the story keeps momentum like a ball being volleyed over a net. Sustained suspense is met with a mix of great editing and a propulsive EDM score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, the best since their work with David Fincher. First-time screenwriter Kuritzkes needs kudos for crafting the most compelling protagonists I have seen in some time. They are almost literary, rich with detail and personality beyond what we see on the screen. Our three leads add layers onto what is already on the page, from a given look or gesture. I became so engrossed in their lives that I didn’t want the story to end. Funny that the writer is married to Celine Song, the writer-director of last summer’s indie hit Past Lives; itself a tale about three people in complicated relationships.
Much has been buzzed about the potential love scene with a photo circulating around of Feist and O’Connor siting on both sides of Zendaya, kissing her neck. Much ado about nothing, I can report. That doesn’t mean this film is devoid of heat. Guadagnino has a way, as Fraud put it, of making something that is a cigar not just be a cigar. Or in this case, a churro. Callbacks like this one to a cigarette scene in A Bigger Splash or even just peaches in Art’s locker room managed to illicit a chuckle.
All jokes aside; by the time you get to the end, you can’t help but be enthralled by the way all the players and crew are firing on all cylinders. One character would be introduced only to reincorporate them later in a deeper context. From the way one serves a ball to a line from a former ball catcher express more than any expository dialogue could. Guadagnino blends so many cinematic tricks in the final match point, from making the camera pass back and forth to a quick undershot; all downright exhilarating. This has been one the most rewarding viewing experiences I have had in a long while. I also wanted to get up, yell, and cheer at this decided victory.
