If there’s one thing the public came to know about Deep Water stars Ana de Armas and Ben Affleck during their stint as a real-life couple, it’s that they both know how to put on a show. Coordinating outfits, conspicuous dog walks, and an intentionally goofy cardboard cutout came to define one of the most talked-about celebrity pairings in recent memory. Unfortunately, the erotic thriller that reportedly introduced them never quite reaches the same dramatic highs as the real thing.
On Friday, after seemingly endless delays, Deep Water finally makes its debut on Hulu. The film marks a long-awaited return for Fatal Attraction director Adrian Lyne, whose last release was 2002’s Unfaithful, and finds Affleck playing a dead-eyed tech mogul named Vic Van Allen whose wife, Melinda (de Armas), loves nothing more than parading her lovers in front of him and his friends. The former couple’s chemistry oozes off the screen, and de Armas carries the film with a performance that revels in wickedness and pent-up rage. But as entertaining as these two might be together, they can only do so much to make up for a flaccid script.
Deep Water brings to screen yet another novel from Patricia Highsmith, whose works also include Carol and The Talented Mr. Ripley. Zach Helm and Euphoria maestro Sam Levinson wrote the screenplay, which (not unlike the glitter-coated HBO series) struggles more than anything with pacing. A gradual, torturous build-up of tension is the heartbeat of any successful erotic thriller; this film prefers to pound out the same note over and over again, reducing its pulse to little more than a flatline.
Vic and Melinda might act like they hate one another, but it’s pretty clear they both get off on the queasy games they play. Vic’s friends (which include Get Out actor Lil Rel Howery playing yet another character trying to save a buddy from himself) all beg him to reign in his philandering wife, whose own “friends” routinely show up at their parties. But as Melinda tells her husband, he’d be bored out of his mind with anyone else—largely because her cheating provides an outlet for his more ruthless side. Vic claims to want to stay together for the sake of their daughter, but really, he’s just as into his wife’s twisted games as she is.
The couple’s social circle pities Vic, whose grudging, laissez-faire attitude leads them to believe he’s totally cucked. But over time we come to see the truth: No one is more calculated, more fixated on control, than this weirdo. Whenever Vic finds out about one of his wife’s dalliances, some voyeurism ensues—followed by a mysterious death.
Perhaps the greatest sin of Deep Water is that it has all the makings of a sultry, dread-soaked erotic thriller, if only someone knew how to put all the pieces together. Unfortunately, Levinson and Helm let their most tantalizing themes go limp.
There’s never any real concern that Vic might face consequences for what he’s done—even after he flagrantly takes credit for one of the killings to scare off another of Melinda’s partners. Much like Vic and Melinda have resigned themselves to this toxic relationship, it seems everyone around them has decided not to care that something is clearly amiss. The one exception is Tracy Letts, whose novelist character can’t let go of the premonition that Vic is bad, bad news.
Vic became a millionaire by designing the computer chip that allows drones to hone in on their targets—a detail that comes up in multiple conversations but remains undeveloped as a thematic point. The couple’s daughter, played with preternatural skill and cuteness by child actor Grace Jenkins, has absorbed an alarming amount of her parents’ baneful bickering—but her ominous references to venomous things her parents have said about one another never amounts to much.
And then there are the snails. Vic’s only hobby, apart from stalking his wife and her parade of lovers (which include her “piano teacher,” played by Euphoria star Jacob Elordi), is raising a large collection of snails. Hannibal fans might assume he’s doing something truly terrifying with these slimy little guys, but alas—it’s just another empty tease.
Those tuning in for the spectacle—to take a furtive peek at the celebs who wouldn’t let their relationship out of our sight for roughly a year—will likely not be disappointed by this hot mess of a film. As baffling as many of its choices are, Affleck and de Armas do capture something fascinating in their on-screen dysfunction. And even though the sex scenes barely go beyond PG-13, de Armas plays the devious minx masterfully enough to sell them. Yes, the script struggles to build suspense and leaves its most fascinating themes all over the floor like discarded garments, but at the end of the day, it’s still wildly entertaining to watch a soulless-looking Affleck get tortured by his young, devious wife. Someone hand this man a cigarette and a bag of Dunkin’ Donuts.
