As we enjoy the last sunny days in New Haven, I reflect on the legacy of one of my favorite French actors, Alain Delon. Bathed in sunlight, I want to revisit two of his most captivating films: La Piscine (1969) and Plein Soleil (1960).
While some claim they watched these movies “for the plot,” the real attraction is Delon. Undeniably one of the most iconic French actors of the 20th century, he was scouted while working as a waiter and quickly became known for his looks. These two films showcase him at his peak, embodying the quintessential f-boy of the time, lounging in swimwear. In La Piscine, set in the sun-drenched French Riviera, sensuality oozes off the screen. Everything Delon does seems deliberately designed to introduce sensuality, like that one scene where he drinks water while lying down. His character, Jean-Paul, is the picture of detached elegance: open shirt, cigarette between his lips, wandering his St Tropez villa with his lover, Marianne (Romy Schneider). Similarly, in Plein Soleil, Delon plays Tom Ripley as a charming man, navigating the breathtaking landscapes of Italy on a boat. Everything in those movies, from the actors to the setting, seems centered around idyllic beauty.
However, while viewers enjoy the movies’ appeasing atmosphere, beauty suddenly switches into something unsettling: murder. The deaths in both movies are unpredictable—both sudden, both shocking. In La Piscine, the serene surface of Jean-Paul and Marianne’s conjugal life is shattered by the arrival of Harry (Maurice Ronet) and his teenage daughter, creating a sequence of jealousy, tension, and death. In Plein Soleil, Delon’s Ripley’s obsession with wealth and status, leads him to take the life of Philippe Greenleaf abruptly (Ronet again), revealing his concealed sociopathy.
This raises a paradox: how can something as beautiful as a French summer, an Italian coast, or even Delon himself, become the backdrop for psychological tension? As I see it, we are often wary of someone or something “too perfect.” It is often the most picturesque scenes and the most beautiful people that betray our expectations. Delon embodies this duality between beauty and the macabre. His physical beauty and effortless charisma are undeniable, but to the point that they become suspicious. Like why is he this good looking? His intense blue eyes turn from alluring to chilling as the movie unfolds. His nonchalance initially lures us in, but then becomes unsettling. Beauty is not self-limiting in these movies: it is a conscious choice.
As we reflect on Alain Delon’s passing, La Piscine and Plein Soleil remind us of how captivating his screen presence was. Delon turned charm into menace and seduction into manipulation. His recent death adds a layer of meta-commentary on the link between beauty and mortality. Throughout his career, Delon’s strikingly handsome face became a symbol of timeless beauty. Yet, his final years were marked by the inevitable decline of age. The contrast between the radiant beauty of his youth and the frailty of his final years reflects the themes in these films. Beauty, no matter how perfect, cannot escape the shadows of death. Delon’s legacy will, however, stay his youthful visage, captured eternally on screen.
