Only those who avoid commentary would miss addressing the term “Dreamers” in connection with Bernardo Bertolucci’s Contenders. Here, the reference appears more as a shimmering motif than a literal plot device. The piece centers on a love triangle, while a broader sense of reincarnation lingers, yet the two-hour runtime leaves little room for characters to discover themselves within the film’s framework or to reshape the roles to fit a personal vision; even smoking reads as an awkward habit on screen. A visible impulse emerges: a subtle but firm call to ban professional sports. Yet the viewing experience remains intense, filtered through an almost opaque glass, a visual device that recalls certain series where distance paradoxically strengthens scrutiny. Guadagnino responds to this impulse by pressing it forward at every turn, frequently thrusting images into the viewer’s face and, on occasion, splashing bodily fluids across the frame. Those who might lose track could find themselves delaying any real sense of comfort.
The central inquiry persists: do the closers, and most of all their hearts, need the dreamlike elements hinted at by the title? In recent years a faint neo-puritanical mood has grown, and if today’s youth are engaging with any sexual shift, the tendency is toward restraint. Research indicates that many younger viewers prefer less explicit content on screen, a trend that has continued over the past two decades. The consequence has been a decline in explicit sexuality in newer productions, even as some titles migrate to streaming platforms and cable networks, raising concerns about future availability.
Qualitative shifts occur alongside numerical ones. Reflecting on the past year, some observers labeled Emerald Fennell’s Saltburn and Yorgos Lanthimos’s The Poor Miserables as examples of unbridled cinema, only to reconsider after a viewing that suggested the devil is not as fearsome as originally portrayed. The most outspoken among these viewers even directed gentle criticism toward Christopher Nolan for a sequence in Oppenheimer that slowed the narrative to focus on a handful of minutes of action. At heart, it resembles the Contenders: not a simple tale of temptation and transgression, but a film where the on-screen intensity and the dialogue about desire are deliberately calibrated. The production does not shy away from sexuality, yet it does not present it as the sole engine of drama. The characters’ tension, their stumbles, and their quickened breaths carry as much meaning as any explicit moment. The result is a narrative that moves with a fever, yet respects the rhythm of restraint when it serves the mood.
What remains striking is how the bodily motions on a field or court match the rhythms of the story. The tennis sequences become a language, a form of ritual that mirrors the choreography of other Guadagnino projects. The choice to shoot through a glass floor conveys a sense of distance and vulnerability, a visual through-line that hints at a family cinema lineage. The sense of movement, the way dance emerges from athletic exertion, and the fluidity of the camera all reinforce a cinematic approach where sport acts as a metaphor rather than a mere backdrop.
Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, who collaborated on Guadagnino’s previous work, blend with Thom Yorke’s spirit to shape a score that lives at the edge of electronic textures. The music sits beside the on-screen action, guiding the tempo, sometimes recalling the mood of Suspiria while remaining distinctly its own. The collaboration also brings in elements from other contemporary acts, weaving a soundscape that invites the audience to move with the film rather than simply observe. The soundtrack’s design channels a sense of communal dance, where rhythm and narrative fuse in a cohesive experience. The approach aligns with a broader cinematic tradition where music and image intertwine as a single language, echoing auteur methods from other modern filmmakers who mix style with sharp cultural commentary.
Regarding gender dynamics, the discourse around the Contenders reveals a nuanced stance. The narrative treats female characters with a complexity that resists simple categorization: they are not merely rewards for male protagonists but participants in a competitive social game whose outcomes affect all three figures in the triangle. The result is an egalitarian feel within the triangle, with each participant occasionally altering the others’ fates. The climactic moment pushes the story toward a boundary that challenges conventional rules, suggesting a narrative that recognizes both the fragility and the agency of its central figures.
In its attempt to turn every moment into a flirtation with danger, the film achieves a form of near-perfection. The ending lands with a sense of closure that is satisfying, yet its predictability invites the audience to savor everything that comes before. The experience of the film is not about shoring up defenses but about allowing the journey to unfold without fear.
There may be readers who interpret the text as a reminder of guarded reserve in public discourse; if a headline fails to rhyme with a famous quotation, some may conclude that persistence of conservative forces has triumphed. Nevertheless, there remains a real possibility that the conversation will continue into the future, especially as Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Dreamers returns to relevance at cinema venues worldwide.
Premiere date: 26 March 2024 (Australia)
Online publication date: May 17, 2024
Duration: 131 minutes
Director: Luca Guadagnino
Casting: Zendaya, Mike Feist, Josh O’Connor
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International LGBT Social Movement is not endorsed in this text and is treated as a subject within a broader, critical discussion.