In Deep With "The Swimmer"

"The Swimmer" begins with lovely views of the wilderness, including a striking crane shot. Then we come upon a backyard swimming pool, and a figure dressed only in swim trunks walks out from between the trees and dives in. This is Ned Merrill (Burt Lancaster), and the pool belongs to his friends, who live in an affluent neighborhood in Connecticut. He's greeted warmly when he emerges, and it's clear that it's been some time since they've last met. Merrill is in his early 50s, but the picture of health, and well-liked by the old friends who exclaim over his appearance. The conversation turns to swimming pools, and Ned hatches the idea to do a length in every single pool between him and his own house on the other side of the county, with the notion that they form a metaphorical river like the ones he swam in his youth. And thus begins one of the strangest and most fascinating existential journeys ever to find its way to the silver screen.

Each pool brings a new encounter, and each encounter is representative of a part of Ned's life. There's Julie Ann (Janet Landgard), who used to babysit Ned's daughters, but is all grown up now. There's Shirley Abbott (Janice Rule), who he had an affair with that she's still bitter about. There's Kevin (Michael Kearney), a lonely little boy ignored by his parents. And then there are the Hallorans (House Jameson, Nancy Cushman), who appear about half-way through the film, who are the first to greet Ned without much enthusiasm. They've clearly heard something about Ned that we don't know, and as the film goes on, we start getting a very different picture of Ned Merrill. The closer and closer Ned gets to home, and the people he meets become more intimately familiar to him, the clearer that picture gets. The strange, twisting narrative creates all sorts of metaphysical and existential questions to puzzle over, but the simplest is this: who is Ned Merrill?

At the center of the movie is the performance of Burt Lancaster, and this is one of his best. The journey of Ned in "The Swimmer" is a microcosm of a man's life, and we dig deeper and deeper into his psyche with each swim. On the surface he's attractive and charismatic, always talking proudly about his wife and daughters. He's the kind of man you look up to and perhaps envy. Then the flaws emerge, the way that he subtly propositions Julie Ann after she confesses she had a schoolgirl crush on him. There's the mountain of promises that he makes to Kevin, that Ned probably has every intention of keeping, but somehow we know he won't. Then there's Shirley, who he has clearly hurt, but Ned behaves as though there's nothing wrong between them. The central defining characteristic of Ned Merrill seems to be self-delusion, as he so earnestly seems to believe in everything he says, and appears genuinely confused when met with any contradiction. Lancaster plays a gamut of emotions, encapsulating all of Ned's highs and lows, and sustaining that wonderful ambiguity about Ned's curious state of mind.

The production of "The Swimmer" was famously contentious, with Lancaster and director Frank Perry constantly at odds until Perry finally quit the picture. However, it's Perry we have to thank for the remarkable look of "The Swimmer," a pastoral evocation of idyllic affluence that slowly becomes more satirical and cynical as the film goes on. In early scenes, there's lots of picturesque foliage and open countryside, reflecting Lancaster at his athletic peak as he travels from pool to pool. Later, as he tires, the frame gets more crowded and noisy, and the forests recede and give way to roads. Colors become more garish. However, all the pools remain an inviting, glimmering blue. The camera is also noticeably mobile and dynamic. There are a couple of great POV shots and close-ups on Lancaster's face that play up the psychological intensity.

I also love the little jabs that the film takes at its subjects. The Hallorans are a pair of elderly nudists who claim open-mindedness, but are quick to deliver staunch disapprovals. A lavish party thrown by another couple is marked by ostentatious decorations and food, but their hospitality comes up short. And then there's the chaos of the local municipal pool, where everyone who isn't rich has to congregate to escape the heat. The dialogue initially seems a little inane and old fashioned, until you realize that it's a reflection of Ned Merrill's worldview, and then it sharpens up in a hurry. I came away from "The Swimmer" marveling over how cleverly it had been constructed, was, how the unlikely sounding plot created such a wealth of metaphors and mysteries to discuss and dissect.

It doesn't surprise me that "The Swimmer" did not do well upon its initial release, but that it's become quite a cult film since. I wholeheartedly recommend it as one of the most unique film experiences I've had this year.
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