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The Swimmer


1968's The Swimmer is an oddly riveting, but somewhat predictable episodic drama that, though mounted on a pretty original canvas, the journey's end is a little disappointing.

This film is the story of a Connecticut suburbanite named Ned Merrill (Burt Lancaster) who, after returning home for the summer, has decided to "swim" his way home via the private swimming pools of all his friends and neighbors and as he reaches each pool, bits and pieces of his life are revealed and we learn that his life is not the Norman Rockwell painting that Ned would like us to believe.

This movie initially fascinates because Ned is initially presented as likable but it doesn't take long to figure out that Ned's life is not as picture perfect as he would like us to believe. I knew things weren't the way Ned tried to make them seem when anyone would ask him how his wife Lucinda and his daughters were, he would brush off the question and his answer was always a little different. Then we see his reaction to encountering an empty pool or his obsession with swimming through a crowded public pool, we know there is something wrong with this man, and his encounter with a former lover named Shirley (Janice Rule, in a flashy performance) wraps up this theory quite neatly. Eleanor Perry's screenplay has a few gaping holes in it, primarily that the reactions of the people Ned encounters during his journey should have been a little more telling than they were, making the film's climax a little more predictable, but also a little more realistic.

Lancaster completely invests in this bizarre character and manages to infuse him with some likability despite his obvious flaws. The supporting cast of suburbanites is appropriate (including a fun cameo from a very young Joan Rivers) and Frank Perry's compelling direction serves the story well. Despite an overbearing musical score, I found the the film strange and predictable and I couldn't take my eyes off the screen.