With perhaps the most evocative title at this year’s Tribeca Festival, Reflections in a Dead Diamond marks the latest stylish venture from husband-and-wife auteurs Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani. The film centers on John Diman, played by Fabio Testi in his twilight years and Yannick Renier in flashbacks, a retired spy whiling away his days in a lavish hotel on the French Riviera. When a mysterious new neighbor arrives, John is stirred by memories of his youthful passions. But her sudden disappearance forces him to reckon with the long-buried ghosts of his past.
Drawing heavily from James Bond and the giallo horror flicks of 1960s Italian cinema, Reflections in a Dead Diamond feels both completely new and oddly familiar. As with all of Cattet and Forzani’s previous work, narrative clarity isn’t really the point. The film jumps between two timelines nearly three decades apart, and it wasn’t until past the halfway mark of its 90-minute runtime that I started to get a grasp on what was going on. Though even after the credits rolled, I was still trying to piece together what exactly the duo was trying to say. The synopsis makes it sound like a straightforward story, but it’s anything but. What Cattet and Forzani are really after is a full-blown cinematic experience, one so intense it might actually trigger an epileptic seizure.
If the visual language of Reflections in a Dead Diamond can be summed up, it’s like a kaleidoscope marinated in acid. With eye-popping imagery and jaw-dropping stylistic choices, the film is an all-out visual and auditory feast. So much of a feast, in fact, that its imagery feels like it’s being burned into your retinas for 90 straight minutes. You might still be seeing strange shapes hours after the credits roll. Needless to say, a lot of viewers are likely to feel overwhelmed by the film’s relentless visual assault. Even I started feeling a bit nauseous after a while. But once I let go of trying to follow a traditional plot and just embraced it as a vibes movie, I genuinely started having fun.
Reflections in a Dead Diamond fully leans into the absurdities of its genre and cinematic predecessors. From hyper-sexualized femme fatales to a never-ending parade of MacGuffins flying across the screen, the film carries a tongue-in-cheek sense of humor as it both celebrates and pokes fun at classic spy movie tropes. Stiff acting paired with a broad-chested male lead? Check. Skin-tight leather suits? Check. A not-so-subtle nod to Diamonds Are Forever? Absolutely. This is a film that doesn’t just acknowledge the ridiculousness, it cranks it up to eleven and tells its story in the most unhinged way possible.
Ultimately, Reflections in a Dead Diamond isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea. Its blistering style and sensory overload will absolutely be too much for some. But if you can ride the wave of its chaos and lean into the absurdity, there’s a wildly entertaining experience to be had. Not everything lands, sure, but I’ll always take a bold, messy swing like this over yet another formulaic James Bond knockoff. At the very least, you won’t forget it.
My Rating: B
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