Deep Water’s main purpose is to serve as a record for celebrity chroniclers of the off-camera affair that made co-stars Ben Affleck and Ana de Armas a tabloid sensation for a brief period of time, ideally with greater chemistry than they create onscreen. However, it serves a secondary function for those of us who have ever marvelled at Tracy Letts’ extraordinary talents as a playwright and actor and wondered, “Is there anything he can’t do?” It turns out he can’t get out of an Adrian Lyne erotica undamaged, not that anybody can in this instance.
Letts portrays Don Wilson, a poorly drawn novelist who is continually side-eyeing his circle of well-heeled pals as they travel from one garden or pool party to the next in their lush suburban New Orleans bubble. Don is ostensibly seeking for dirt for a book he’s writing, but his disgusting expression primarily indicates, “Who wrote this shit?” That is, until he is thrown into a ridiculous conclusion that appears to have been edited out of some crucial fundamental foreplay. Which may lead to a third reason for the film’s existence if Letts and his wife, Carrie Coon, decide to see it one night and share a few cringe-worthy belly laughs.
Lyne, who was formerly a leading producer of glossy titillation films like 912 Weeks, Fatal Attraction, and Indecent Proposal, hasn’t released anything since the fairly classy Unfaithful in 2002. He tackles the 1957 Patricia Highsmith novel, which was previously adapted for German television two years later. It was previously filmed in a 1981 French version titled Eaux Profondes, starring Isabelle Huppert and Jean-Louis Trintignant, and then filmed in a 1981 French version titled Eaux Profondes, starring Isabelle Huppert and Jean-Louis Trintignant. Lyne’s interpretation on the material, penned by Zach Helm and Sam Levinson without distinction, manages to remove all the delicacy and psychological complexity from Highsmith’s tale of marital struggle, transgression, and obsession.
Erotic thrillers aren’t exactly in line with Disney’s brand, which acquired the New Regency imprint as part of the Fox merger. As a result, the picture has been gathering dust since its original November 2020 release date, changing twice before being pushed to Hulu for domestic distribution and Amazon for foreign distribution. It’s perfect for streaming since you can read your Twitter feed, play Wordle, shop online, and even prepare a grilled cheese lunch without worrying about being left behind by the sluggish plotting.
In her ten minutes onscreen in No Time to Die, though, the rising actress was allowed greater freedom to perform. We don’t know much about Melinda’s history except that she has an Italian accent and sings Paolo Conte at a party, therefore she may be Italian. “Look sexy,” “Dance hot,” “Pout hot,” and “Touch yourself” seem to be her key directives. All we really learn about her is that she’s a sexpot, to use an outmoded word, who wants to be wanted by someone less wooden than Vic to feel alive.
Melinda is without a doubt the most vibrant character in this stale thriller, which makes it a bummer that the viewpoint is solely that of drab old Vic, the human snail.
