Lancaster Bomber

The Swimmer (Frank Perry, 1968)

Although largely unsung, we can add The Swimmer to the list of gems from 1968 that was a bumper year in cinema. Frank Perry's drama revolves around Ned Merrill, (Burt Lancaster) a middle-aged man with a bizarre obsession of wanting to make his way home by swimming his way home in the pools of his neighbours and fellow residents (regardless of whether they know him or not). Named after his wife, Ned calls it "the Lucinda river", which in turn becomes a fascinating odyssey for its protagonist and the viewer.

Adapted from John Cheever's short story, first published in The New Yorker, it's somewhat mindblowing that this unconventional and largely surreal film was picked up by a mainstream company like Columbia Pictures for distribution. Its doubly bizarre that Burt Lancaster, an actor synonymous with a tough guy on screen persona, would dive completely into this after the likes of George C. Scott and Paul Newman passed on the project. The Swimmer transformed into a personal film for Lancaster. He underwent immense physical training to get in shape for the role by putting on twenty pounds of muscle for his physique. He also ended up spending his own money to fund the last day of filming as the Horizon Pictures could not or would not spend anymore on the film. With such a troubled production which say Sydney Pollack playing an uncredited hand at directing reshoots after Frank Perry was fired from the film, you would think The Swimmer would have spelt an absolute disaster. It kind of did as it sunk without much fanfare, until it was rediscovered years later.

Despite The Swimmer's strange premise, it's an effective way in learning more about Ned during his journey home. Each one of his pool treks serves as a short story in itself, and reveal invaluable details about him. It's obvious from the very start of the film that there's something strange about Ned. The way some of his neighbours react to him seems to tell there's much more going on with Ned than we're let on. That's the beauty of the The Swimmer  – you're picking up these fragmented pieces about Ned's past and playing armchair detective. Despite being such an old film, delving deeper into Ned's journey would effectively spoil the experience. Also, The Swimmer deserves the benefit of not being ruined by anyone as it contains a superb final act with an unforgettable ending.

Don't mean to use such a clichéd description like "multi-layered", but it's wholly appropriate here: on one hand, The Swimmer poses as a psycho drama about a man's fractured past; while on the other, it's a satirical critique on the upper middle-class. The latter portrays Ned's neighbours as lazy and hungover good for nothings. While piecing together the jigsaw puzzle that is Ned's past, you're seeing him mingle with people who were once like him. The more you learn about Ned, you start to think that maybe he wasn't always such a great guy afterall; especially when he winds up visiting the home of his former mistress. There's also the distinct contrast he faces when he meets the working classes at the claustrophobically cluttered local swimming pool.

As mentioned earlier, Lancaster wasn't the first pick to play the role of Ned Merrill in The Swimmer, but it  might be one of his best performances, in my opinion. For a middle-aged actor wearing only navy blue swimming trunks for the entirety of the film, he does a stellar transformation of turning from this mildly eccentric suburbanite into a darkly disturbed individual. It's physical too, as his confident posture is  eventually subsitituted with him cowering and limping as the film progresses.  To a certain degree, Ned Merrill might come across as a spiritual precurssor to the likes of Travis Bickle and D-Fens. Personally, I interpret The Swimmer as a critique on the American Dream and on the male machismo.

Found out about the film about a decade ago when Grindhouse Releasing acquired the rights for it which was odd at the time since their catalogue contained notorious horror titles like Cannibal Holocaust (1980) and Cannibal Ferox (1981). Consequently, this stark contrast allowed for The Swimmer to earn a spot on my watch list. However, it wasn't many years later that I finally got off my arse and watched it. An absolute gem that I should have checked out much earlier, but better late than never.