THE STORY – John is 70 years old and lives in solitary luxury in a grand hotel on the Côte d’Azur. He becomes intrigued by the woman in the room next door who reminds him of his wild years on the Riviera in the 1960s, back when he was a debonair international spy in a world brimming with peril and promise. But when the woman mysteriously disappears, John is beset by flashbacks – or perhaps fantasies – of his glamorous and grotesque past, and the alluring women and dastardly villains who lived and died there.
THE CAST – Fabio Testi, Yannick Renier, Koen De Bouw, Maria de Medeiros & Thi Mai Nguyen
THE TEAM – Hélène Cattet & Bruno Forzani (Directors/Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 87 Minutes
When British author Ian Fleming first wrote his inaugural spy fantasy that would later evolve into the world-renowned series of James Bond adventures, the rampant critical and financial success of “Casino Royale” resulted in a domino chain of fortune and motion-picture promotion for the former naval intelligence scribe. The face of British literature changed forever as the film industry evolved with the entertainment trends of the era. Beyond the problematic veil of Bond’s chauvinism and British nationalism, the series offered escapism for readers adjusting to post-war society. Fleming’s writing transported his readership to a parallel world, where handsome public servants reign supreme amidst the pandemonium of their picturesque settings. “Casino Royale” is set in the North of France, located in the fictional town of Royale-les-Eaux. In the book, there’s a remarkable sense of detail within Fleming’s descriptions of the francophone paradise. The juxtaposition of death, espionage, and womanizing escapades embody the legacy of the Bond franchise.
Since the 1953 publication of Fleming’s novel, different iterations of the same reconnaissance narrative emerged out of popular demand. In the cultural lexicon, the archetype of the suave and sexy secret agent launched the popularity of characters such as Diabolik, Ethan Hunt, Jason Bourne, and the remarkably goofy Johnny English. The zeitgeist regurgitates similar narratives to spawn different cultural adaptations and riffs of familiar crime capers. The crux of Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani’s latest ultra-violent gore-fest interrogates the sensationalism backing the spy genre. By casting Giallo-icon Fabio Testi in the lead septuagenarian role, Testi’s reflexive portfolio of genre cinema reflects upon Cattet and Forzani’s interrogative mise en scène.
Unlike “Casino Royale,” “Reflection in a Dead Diamond” is set down south in the Côte d’Azur. The serenity of the French Riviera pays homage to the idyllic setting of Fleming’s fictionalized township. For John (Fabio Testi), a retired secret agent, his return to the sun-stroked paradise is met with uncompromising tension. Forced to recollect his golden days of violent spy shenanigans, Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani employ cinematic ellipsis to submerge their spectatorship into John’s fleeting subconscious. The editing fluidly cuts forwards and backward in time, radically stripping John’s autonomy with his relentless memories of espionage failure. By rapidly crosscutting between the present and the past, Cattet and Forzani weaponize their seamless transitions to draw the viewer closer to John’s pursuits of vengeance and vindication. The execution of its editorial conceit is exhausting with its constant barrage of over-stimulation, albeit necessary for its thematic explorations.
When the film isn’t feeding the viewer contextual clues through dialogue, Cattet and Forzani lure the viewer into their vibrant world through kinetic action. The camera is constantly moving as the directorial duo experiment with their cinematic language through clever composition and seamless transitions. The coinciding ultraviolence is impactful on arrival due to the pairing’s decision to keep their soundscape largely diegetic. The film’s soundtrack is used sparingly, as the sound effects and foley amplify the tactility of the violence. Every wince-inducing bone-crunch and exasperated gasp is aimed to insatiably torment the viewer. Cattet and Forzani utilize their violent veil to draw their audience closer to John’s fetishized occupation.
Through the aforementioned expositional dialogue, we learn more about the film’s iconic antagonist, Serpentik — a lethal assassin who manages to flee the scene of her crimes with her impressive disguises and outlandish weapons (which so-happen to comically accentuate her femininity). Serpentik’s real visage is kept at arm’s length from the viewer as John is forced to confront the ramifications of his golden-age fantasy. Thus, John’s sense of reality and personhood gradually disintegrates as the film progresses. Testi’s meta-casting is particularly brilliant, as the aging Italian movie star perfectly portrays John’s hysteria through frenzied expressions and deafening silence. The labyrinthine structure compliments his character’s revelations, as the film concludes with a twisty and explosive finale.
John’s unreliable perspective compliments the film’s manic meditations on the spy genre, utilizing the framework of a psychological thriller to deteriorate the character’s nightmares of yesteryear radically. “Reflection in a Dead Diamond” isn’t interested in conclusive answers. Instead, it replaces its nostalgic veneer with John’s realization of his mortality and futile existence. The meta-textual conclusion is delightfully unhinged, as the protagonist’s disillusionment disorients his archetypal role.
The film’s title ultimately symbolizes two different meanings. The first is a literal reference to the events that transpire throughout the film, as John is forced to look into his stash of uncut gems to reconfigure the unsolved mysteries of his past. The other is a reflexive sentiment that embodies the spirit of the film’s production. “Reflection in a Dead Diamond” aptly reflects its genre, where it interrogates espionage-related archetypes, tropes, and cliches. It impressively satirizes the state of the entertainment industry as the consumerist onslaught and demand for nostalgic capers weigh upon John’s feeble shoulders. The meta-narrativization playfully subverts expectations, where its resolution implodes upon the protagonist’s refusal to conform to reality. “Reflection in a Dead Diamond” is a breath of fresh air, a pulpy spy movie, unlike any other film from its tiresome genre.
