After the apocalyptic death and destruction of World War II, entire nations struggled to start anew amidst the physical and psychological rubble. There was a steady outpouring of stories that took place in settings that were barren, stripped down, inhospitable.
The most famous of these was probably Waiting for Godot, whose stage decoration is described thus: “A country road. A tree. Evening.” Such a landscape is itself a statement about the stark reality of existence, one shared by countless postwar movies and books whose characters inhabit deserts, empty beaches, mountain fortresses, bombed-out cities and impoverished villages.
You get a modern, upmarket version of this kind of arid landscape in Islands, a teasingly spare, slow-burn drama by German filmmaker Jan-Ole Gerster, here working in English. Set on Fuerteventura — one of Spain’s Canary Islands, off the coast of North Africa — it lures you in like a conventional thriller then turns into something less predictable.
Looking a bit like Peter Fonda in his scruffy days, Sam Riley plays the quietly sympathetic Tom, a broken-down tennis pro who has ended up on Fuerteventura, a small island that’s basically a collection of beaches, volcanic slag and craggy cliffs.
Tom gives tennis lessons to the guests of a luxury hotel that, in these surroundings, looks like the QE2 has somehow docked on the moon. Although his life might appear enviable — days in the sun; nights of dancing, drinking and women eager to party — he wakes up with the daily hangover of a man trying to convince himself that purgatory is paradise.
This changes when he starts giving tennis lessons to Anton, the young son of a rich married couple — the sophisticated Anne (that’s Stacy Martin), a former actor, and Dave (played by Jack Farthing), a jerk businessman who specializes in a kind of bullying friendliness. Tom enjoys teaching Anton, and starts doing the family favors.
Anne and Dave are dangerously unhappy, and for those of us raised on Double Indemnity and Body Heat, we start waiting for the inevitable torrid sex scene and murder. And we worry for Tom, a decent guy who Riley gives a very nice vibe.
As Tom guides them around the island and gets pushed into taking Dave out clubbing, I wondered if he’d never seen a film noir. Otherwise, he’d know he’s heading for trouble. Eventually that trouble comes: Dave disappears, the cops are called in, and it turns out Anne hasn’t been entirely forthcoming.
Yet what makes Islands good is that it’s not just another reheated noir. As our anxiety mounts — a feeling accentuated by the musical score — we begin to pick through the story’s sly hints and possible clues. Have Tom and Anne actually met before? Why exactly is Tom drawn to Anton? Why is he bending over backwards for people he barely knows? Is he hoping to escape his spiritual solitude by throwing himself into the search for the missing Dave?
The movie makes us feel Tom’s — indeed everyone’s — isolation; it’s not for nothing the film is called Islands. Gerster’s carefully calibrated images show how the characters are defined by the meaningless beauty of the island — where even the sunset can feel a bit cold — and the meaningless pleasures of holiday reveling: swatting tennis balls back and forth, guzzling drink after drink, throwing one’s music-fueled arms toward the sky in the disco. Over and over and over again.
In its blend of high-art style and pulp crime story, Islands is a nifty piece of what we might call Existential Pop. While both its style and story clearly suggest a male riff on Michelangelo Antonioni’s great film L’Avventura — whose heroine goes looking for a mysteriously vanished woman — Islands also made me think of Houellebecq’s nifty novella Lanzarote, about an alienated hedonist’s search for meaning on another of the Canary Islands, and even The White Lotus TV series, where both tourists and hotel employees face crises that call their lives into question.
Now I’m happy to say that, for all its metaphysical overtones, Islands doesn’t end on one of those unresolved enigmas that leaves you shrieking at the screen. We learn everything we need to know, and so does our hero. Realizing he’s confused inertia for contentment, Tom finally grasps that the only way to stop his life from being empty is to do something meaningful to fill it up.
Transcript:
DAVID BIANCULLI, HOST:
This is FRESH AIR. In the new film “Islands” out this week, a washed-up tennis pro gives lessons at a fancy hotel in the Canary Islands. But when he meets an elegant woman with an unlikable husband, things take a noir-ish turn. Our critic at large, John Powers, says the plot may sound familiar, but “Islands” takes you places you don’t expect.
JOHN POWERS, BYLINE: After the apocalyptic death and destruction of World War II, entire nations struggled to start anew amidst the physical and psychological rubble. There was a steady outpouring of stories that took place in settings that were barren, stripped down, inhospitable. The most famous of these was probably “Waiting For Godot,” whose stage decoration is described thus – a country road, a tree, evening. Such a landscape is itself a statement about the stark reality of existence, one shared by countless post-war movies and books, whose characters inhabit deserts, empty beaches, mountain fortresses, bombed-out cities and impoverished villages. You get a modern upmarket version of this kind of arid landscape in “Islands,” a teasingly spare slow-burn drama by German filmmaker Jan Ole Gerster, here working in English.
Set on Fuerteventura, one of Spain’s Canary Islands off the coast of North Africa, it lures you in like a conventional thriller, then turns into something less predictable. Looking a bit like Peter Fonda in his scruffy days, Sam Riley plays the quietly sympathetic Tom, a broken-down tennis pro who’s ended up on Fuerteventura, a small island that’s basically a collection of beaches, volcanic slag and craggy cliffs. He gives tennis lessons to the guests of a luxury hotel that, in these surroundings, looks like the QE2 has somehow docked on the moon. Although his life might appear enviable – days in the sun, nights of dancing, drinking and women eager to party, he wakes up with the daily hangover of a man trying to convince himself that purgatory is paradise. This changes when he starts giving tennis lessons to Anton, the young son of a rich married couple, the sophisticated Anne – that’s Stacy Martin, a former actress – and Dave, a jerk businessman who specializes in a kind of bullying friendliness. Tom enjoys teaching Anton and starts doing the family favors. Here, after Tom helps them get a better room, Dave, played by Jack Farthing, insists on compensating him.
(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, “ISLANDS”)
JACK FARTHING: (As Dave) How much extra is it?
SAM RILEY: (As Tom) There’s no charge.
FARTHING: (As Dave) Come on.
STACY MARTIN: (As Anne) We’ll pay the difference.
RILEY: (As Tom) No, really, it’s sorted.
FARTHING: (As Dave) Oh, my God. OK. Well, at least let me…
RILEY: (As Tom) No, you don’t have to worry.
FARTHING: (As Dave) Come on, man, let me…
RILEY: (As Tom) No, really.
FARTHING: (As Dave) It’ll make me feel better.
RILEY: (As Tom) It’s fine.
FARTHING: (As Dave) You sure?
MARTIN: (As Anne) Well, then, at least let us buy you dinner.
FARTHING: (As Dave) Yeah. Yeah, yeah, definitely. And somewhere nice, not this catastrophic hotel food.
RILEY: (As Tom) Yeah, OK. Why not? I know a little place in town.
FARTHING: (As Dave) Perfect.
POWERS: Anne and Dave are dangerously unhappy. And for those of us raised on double indemnity and body heat, we start waiting for the inevitable torrid sex scene and murder. And we worry for Tom, a decent guy who Riley gives a very nice vibe. As he guides them around the island and gets pushed into taking Dave out clubbing, I wondered if he’d never seen a film noir. Otherwise, he’d know he’s heading for trouble. Eventually, that trouble comes. Dave disappears, the cops are called in and it turns out Anne hasn’t been entirely forthcoming.
Yet, what makes “Islands” good is that it’s not just another reheated noir. As our anxiety mounts, a feeling accentuated by the musical score, we begin to pick through the story’s sly hints and possible clues. Have Tom and Anne actually met before? Why exactly is Tom drawn to Anton? Why is he bending over backwards for people he barely knows? Is he hoping to escape his spiritual solitude by throwing himself into the search for the missing Dave? The movie makes us feel Tom’s, indeed, everyone’s isolation. It’s not for nothing, the film is called “Islands.”
Gerster’s carefully calibrated images show how the characters are defined by the meaningless beauty of the island, where even the sunset can feel a bit cold, and the meaningless pleasures of holiday reveling – swatting tennis balls back and forth, guzzling drink after drink, throwing one’s music-fueled arms toward the sky in the disco over and over and over again. In its blend of high art style and pulp crime story, “Islands” is a nifty piece of what we might call existential pop. While both its style and story clearly suggest a male riff, a Michelangelo Antonioni’s great film “L’Avventura” whose heroine goes looking for a mysteriously vanished woman, “Islands” also made me think of Michel Houellebecq’s nifty novella “Lanzarote” about an alienated hedonist search for meaning on another of the Canary Islands, and even the “White Lotus” TV series, where both tourists and hotel employees face crises that call their lives into question.
Now, I’m happy to say that, for all its metaphysical overtones, “Islands” doesn’t end on one of those unresolved enigmas that leaves you shrieking at the screen. We learn everything we need to know, and so does our hero. Realizing he’s confused inertia for contentment, Tom finally grasps that the only way to stop his life from being empty is to do something meaningful to fill it up.
BIANCULLI: John Powers reviewed the new film “Islands.” On Monday’s show, Ethan Hawke. He’s been nominated for an Oscar for his starring performance in the film “Blue Moon” about lyricist Lorenz Hart. In the streaming series “The Lowdown,” he’s a small-time investigative journalist constantly getting into trouble. He’ll talk about his movies and his life, from his years as a teenage film star to today. Hope you can join us.
(SOUNDBITE OF ART TATUM’S “YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF ME”)
BIANCULLI: To keep up with what’s on the show and get highlights of our interviews, follow us on Instagram – @nprfreshair. FRESH AIR’s executive producers are Danny Miller and Sam Briger. Our senior producer today is Roberta Shorrock. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham, with additional engineering support by Joyce Lieberman, Julian Herzfeld, and Diana Martinez. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers, Ann Marie Baldonado, Lauren Krenzel, Therese Madden, Monique Nazareth, Thea Chaloner, Susan Nyakundi and Anna Bauman. Our digital media producer is Molly Seavy-Nesper.
For Terry Gross and Tonya Mosley, I’m David Bianculli.
(SOUNDBITE OF ART TATUM’S “YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF ME”)
