Hélène Cattet & Bruno Forzani’s latest film, Reflection in a Dead Diamond (Reflet dans un diamant mort), may be their most accessible yet, though it’s still as beautiful and high-concept as any that came before it. Cattet & Forzani’s names have become synonymous with a certain kind of gorgeous motion picture, exquisitely crafted to the point of swallowing up any semblance of narrative that exists underneath the surface. Many have lobbed the tired “style over substance” accusation at the duo for their last three feature films (Amer, The Strange Color of Your Body’s Tears, and Let the Corpses Tan) and, in their defense, the relative obtuseness of these films can challenge even the most interested viewer.
Reflection in a Dead Diamond throws the viewer headfirst into the mindset of a handsome, older former spy who goes by John Diman – think any given James Bond type, but mostly with a Sean Connery vibe – and finds himself reflecting on his blood-soaked past. Or he may in fact be working one final job at this luxury hotel on the Côte d’Azur while being stalked by an old nemesis. Or… perhaps he’s actually the famous star of a spy series that comprises both comic books and cinema. Any of these could be the reality, but Cattet & Forzani are content to shift between them endlessly, disorienting the viewer as much as Diman himself.
At certain moments, like when the light reflects off a diamond nipple piercing, Diman is prone to getting lost in those very memories. As we watch his older self (Fabio Testi) follow a potential enemy, the scene might shift over to the younger Diman (Yannick Renier) taking the same route, grabbing the same weapon, and killing the same individual. The two constants throughout this exploration of time, space, and memory are Diman and the shapeshifting Serpentik, an intoxicating screen presence played by a number of actresses who rip their latex disguise masks off and shift to the next personality like it’s an everyday occurrence.
Everything about the production of Reflection in a Dead Diamond is irresistible: the dynamic cutting between chases, fights, and patient contemplation; the perfect combination of music, color, light, and 16mm photography that emulates a bygone era; the exquisite costuming and set design, and the way the camera moves through each space, highlighting every little flourish. Cattet & Forzani vary their approach to weaponizing and manipulating these aesthetics from one film to the next, at times to the point of exhaustion (as with Let the Corpses Tan). But it all gels together so well in this Reflection because of how the duo pairs all of its formal beauty with the way the narrative unfolds.
This mode of fragmented storytelling works like a charm here, allowing the filmmakers to fold anything both in the realm of possibility (and out of it) into what are plausibly just Diman’s fractured memories. The framing of an aged man recalling his youth may seem like a crutch at first, but every new interpretation of a beat feels as much like a natural continuation of the narrative as it does someone making up the parts they can’t remember. Some of the more fantastical moments – like a ring that confers x-ray vision on the user, or a dress made of circular mirrors that erupts into sharpened weapons able to thwart a mob of killers – feel less like indulgences and more like the pages of a half-remembered comic book. Violence is at times exciting (an inventive bar fight or a staged bedroom murder) and occasionally dull (brief flashes of brutality), exactly as it would be in Diman’s recollections of past cases.
Diabolik is the Italian comic-book series that Cattet & Forzani most liberally crib from, with the film often playfully cutting comic panels into live-action scenes, but the list of influences is likely more expansive than any individual can recall. The works of Ian Fleming (as well as the endless parade of Bond features) are, of course, a major point of reference, but there are allusions to and explicit showcases of seminal works as varied as Alfredo Catalani’s La Wally, Caravaggio’s Judith Beheading Holofernes, Maya Deren’s Meshes of the Afternoon, and Federico Fellini’s 8 ½. As dense as that might sound, so many of the tropes that the film plays with are so embedded into pop culture and espionage cinema at large that there’s no way to get lost in the details.
Some of Cattet & Forzani’s past films have eschewed narrative and intentionally veered toward being “confusing” or obtuse, but the playfulness of their craft makes all the muddling of reality easier to swallow. Characters can joke about how their fights are all illusions and make reference to a killer’s ability to hypnotize victims into believing they’re in a film because the presentation of the work lulls you into accepting that these dissociative memories are just how everything played out (either in reality, on screen, or in a book). Reflection in a Dead Diamond isn’t just a riveting little meta movie, it’s also a great work about how our histories – the most unique assignments, the most gorgeous vistas, the most violent actions, and the most sensual women – blend together once our time is up.
- Release Date
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November 5, 2025
- Runtime
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87 Minutes
- Director
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Bruno Forzani, Héléne Cattet
- Writers
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Bruno Forzani, Héléne Cattet
- Producers
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Pierre Foulon
Cast
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Fabio Testi
John Diman (Old)
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Yannick Renier
John Diman (Young)
