Jan-Ole Gerster’s “Islands” begins like a classic mumblecore indie, capturing the laid-back routine of a young character who doesn’t seem keenly invested in the possibilities that lie in his future. He spends his time speaking with the hotel staff, getting drunk, and sleeping with women within hours of meeting them for the first time. So, the film falls in the usual conversational framework of mumblecore, following the listless lives of wasted youth, and appears content in that narrative lane. Those conventions start cracking as soon as he crosses paths with a person who seems invested in more than what she asks for. That’s when the film begins to suggest an intention and a direction that mumblecore often lacks.
Everything happens in gorgeously tinged beachside landscapes that are bound to make you woozy on their own. Gerster utilizes that sunny setting in a way that’s reminiscent of genre pieces like “Chinatown” or “The Long Goodbye,” where the makers remained as devoted to the mood as to the narrative.
That gorgeous cocktail of psychological depth and stylistic poeticism is present in “Islands,” where characters feel like extensions of their geographies. Despite the visible comforts of their bourgeois lives or the well-maintained nature of their appearances, they seem unmoored, which takes us back to the title. The three characters at the centre of the story appear as isolated as those adrift pieces of land. While one hopes to bridge the gaps, another seems content in detachment.
With this innately poetic notion, someone could have easily gone overboard with overt allegories. Gerster, instead, slowly pulls you into its seductive daze through an elaborate psychological play, where sun-drenched landscapes aren’t the only things making you feel drowsy. It introduces Tom (Sam Riley), a man presumably in his thirties, living on an island with a Spanish-speaking population, even though his accent suggests that it may not be his native language. Despite potentially being far from his motherland, he doesn’t seem visibly dissatisfied with his life. He goes by the motions of life in a way that shows he is used to them.
There’s a hint of sadness lurking underneath his usual pursuits, but it doesn’t overwhelm his existence. It changes once he crosses paths with Anne (Stacy Martin), a mother who wants him to teach her son tennis. Since that’s his job, he agrees to a commitment strictly limited to his ethical framework. While they say only what’s necessary, the sustained tension makes you realize it’s not a usual interaction for either. It hints at elusiveness that becomes the film’s core highlight.
Characters rarely say what they want from each other and remain secretive, whether by nature or obligation. Gerste, Blaz Kutin, and Lawrie Doran’s script doesn’t offer much information about their pasts and depicts them as enigmatic figures. We learn about them only through what they let us realize or what they reveal indirectly. While the lack of insight would have usually been a flaw, it works in this case since it helps sustain a sense of intrigue about everyone’s intentions, making us second-guess the truth in almost every single scene.
Moreover, besides geography, the said sport remains intricately connected to the script. There’s something about tennis, whether on a field or a table, that leads to infectious thrill, as evidenced in projects like “Challengers” and “Marty Supreme.” Whether it’s the tension between two sides of the table, the unruly desire to draw attention to yourself, or to entirely avoid the gaze out of shame or embarrassment, the sport offers a fertile ground for an arresting drama.
“Islands” uses the gradual shifts in the power dynamics between Tom, Anne, and her husband, Dave (Jack Farthing), to a similar effect, as they all seem to be drowning in an early-onset midlife crisis, stemming from mounting fears of unfulfilled potential. The seductiveness comes from how gently and coyly Gerster’s direction teases us in different directions, which then helps the film be largely unpredictable.
Thankfully, he gets on board a remarkable trio to depict the characters’ dissonance, with Riley and Martin leaving us with a pang through their calculated and grounded performances. Riley’s uniquely heavy voice, which made him an ideal choice to play Ian Curtis, adds another layer to his character, listlessly hoping for a sign to escape the grind that hitherto consumed his ambitions. Even the supporting cast of Pep Ambròs, Ramiro Blas, Dylan Torrell, Bruna CusÃ, and Fatima Adoum adds enough to their individual characters that they feel like real humans, not simply people in Tom’s periphery.
While building a neo-noir plot with a crime, a femme fatale, and thematic motifs, it cleverly uses its visual palette of vibrant yellows, blues, and reds to hold us in its Hitchcockian trap. Characters start realizing their untapped potential, assume roles, blend into the environment, or put themselves at risks they likely shouldn’t. There’s a constant, underlying friction between their pasts and presents throughout those events that draws us in and compels us to stay by their side.
Furthermore, the film avoids being simply about the act of discovery or a lucid moment of catharsis. That has also been the case with some of the finest neo-noir projects that are less about the moment of reveal and more about the aftermath, how the said reveal transforms characters or shapes the characters’ lives. You will feel that through the lingering tension after we hear “Forget it, Jake. It’s Chinatown.” Gerster manages to lead his deceptively breezy psychological thriller on a similarly explorative note, pushing us ponder over its themes.
