My Corner

April 2024

Challengers opens with heat and never cools down. Luca Guadagnino crafts a film that feels like a match played in slow motion and sudden bursts, where every look, gesture, and serve carries layers of meaning. The court becomes a battleground for desire, ambition, jealousy, and control, and the story unfolds with the fluidity of a rally that builds in tension until the final point lands.

Zendaya commands the screen as Tashi, a former tennis star turned coach, who shapes the two men in her life like opponents on opposite sides of the net. Her performance is neither sympathetic nor villainous. She exudes dominance and calculation while keeping the audience guessing whether she is protecting her heart or simply proving she still holds power. This is not a love triangle built on romance but a triangle forged from ego, need, and memory.

Mike Faist portrays Art as a man who appears composed but carries an undeniable edge. His love for Tashi drives him to seek approval and validation, even as the foundation beneath him begins to shift. His restraint reveals as much as his outbursts, and every movement seems designed to communicate what he refuses to say. Josh O’Connor as Patrick delivers a performance full of friction and hunger. He disrupts every room he enters, never bothering to contain his impulses, and in doing so, he reflects the emotional chaos Tashi tries to suppress.

The screenplay by Justin Kuritzkes moves between past and present without ever losing control. Each scene contributes to a larger picture of betrayal and performance, allowing revelations to emerge not through exposition but through repetition and rhythm. The structure builds suspense while forcing the viewer to reconsider who, if anyone, holds the upper hand. Guadagnino allows the characters’ emotional games to unfold in tandem with the physical ones, creating a layered narrative that rarely pauses for air.

Rather than romanticizing sport, the film leans into its brutal elegance. Every match scene is choreographed with precision, framed to capture sweat, tension, and exhaustion in equal measure. Tennis becomes a metaphor not only for competition but for seduction, strategy, and survival. The camera hovers low to the ground or spins above the action, making the viewer feel every moment as if caught mid-rally.

The score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross gives the film its pulse, using harsh electronic textures and pounding rhythms to heighten the sense of emotional claustrophobia. Rather than serving as a background element, the music becomes a character in itself, amplifying both the physical momentum and the psychological stakes.

Guadagnino’s direction avoids sentimentality entirely. This film does not ask viewers to root for anyone. It invites them to observe the shifting dynamics of power and desire with discomfort, fascination, and perhaps recognition. The final moments do not offer resolution in a traditional sense. Instead, they reinforce the idea that the game never really ends. Every interaction between the trio becomes another serve, another return, another chance to win or lose something intangible.

Challengers is not a typical sports film. It is a character study disguised as a competition, and a romance stripped of softness. With bold performances, sharp writing, and hypnotic visuals, the film refuses to be contained by genre or expectation. The result is a viewing experience that lingers like a bruise and hums with unresolved tension long after the screen fades to black.