Why are we drawn to spy films? The genre has proven to be exceptionally popular, going back to the 1930s, where stories of debonair agents (whether professional or amateur) facing sinister adversaries in pursuit of knowledge have remained cinematic classics, ageing exceptionally well and bringing genuine value to those who are simply seeking entertainment more than anything else. Everyone has their personal choice for the peak of the genre, and my opinion is that it reached its apex in the 1960s – not only was this the birth of James Bond on screen (whose positioning as the gold standard for the genre cannot be debated), but several genuinely wonderful gems were made during this period – colourful, bombastic works that compensated for occasionally poor writing and shallow socio-cultural commentary with stylish charm and broad servings of dark humour, all of which enticed many viewers to spend a couple of hours under the spell of these stories. From time to time, we see efforts to revive this particular era of the spy film – we can look towards the hilarious Johnny English or O.S.S 117 (or their various sequels, which do not always fare quite as well) – but very few have actually struck the right balance between style and substance, in the way that we saw in films like Modesty Blaise and Special Mission Lady Chaplin, which are as entertaining today as they were decades ago. This brings us to Reflection in a Dead Diamond (French: Reflet dans un diamant mort), which was conceived by Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani, a directorial duo who have steadily built a very impressive career with these offbeat genre films that act as throwbacks to bygone eras, having achieved some attention (some may even say notoriety) for the notoriously odd Let the Corpses Tan, which is a fascinating forerunner to this film, which tells the story of an old man living in a hotel along the French Riviera, and who suddenly confronted with the memories of his time as an international spy when he crosses paths with an enigmatic young woman. A wonderfully odd film that is as bizarre as it is delightful, anchored by some impressive technical skill and a genuine sense of creativity, Reflection in a Dead Diamond is a wonderfully enticing work, and a film that deserves to be seen and appreciated as one of the year’s most engaging cinematic curios.

Simply acknowledging the popularity of the spy genre is not enough to understand exactly what makes it so appealing, nor the qualities that allow Reflection in a Dead Diamond to stand as such an unexpected triumph in terms of both form and content. To understand this, we need to unpack the film and focus on some of the small details that come through in the process of exploring the genre as a whole. For many of us, a happy life is one defined by comfort, where all we need are simple luxuries – but deep down, there is something about the life of a spy that seems to be appealing. To spend your days in some of the world’s most beautiful locations, having access to the fastest cars, designer fashion and the most gorgeous travelling companions seems nothing if not exciting. The reality is that this is a fallacy perpetuated by spy literature as a whole – but you’d be foolish not admit that we all can get enraptured by the mere suggestion, as unrealistic as it may be. There is nothing too particular, complex, or strange at play in this film – and frankly, this only makes it more authentic, since it never attempts to be a revision of a genre many claim is outdated or which doesn’t have any place in the contemporary culture, proving that the notion that they’re just remnants of the past is a minority opinion. We simply love seeing beautiful people driving fast cars and getting themselves into perilous situations, since we know, when all is said and done, that they’ll escape unscathed, with the object of their desire on their arm and the villain facing the necessary consequences. Cattet and Forzani are aware of this and build the entirety of Reflection in a Dead Diamond around the idea, which is what makes it such a compelling piece of cinema, a brilliantly engaging homage to a previous era and the films that defined it. Historically, eurospy films were not considered high art – they were cheaply-made and often very crude, and usually acted as pale imitations of the prestige action thrillers being produced by Hollywood, and this awareness of not only the genre’s history, but its deepest nuances, is what informs this film and allows it to flourish into something far more engaging that we would expect based on a cursory glance.

However, we also can’t dismiss Reflection in a Dead Diamond as merely just a well-made novelty, since while it is very much crafted as a pastiche to a genre that has mostly gone out of style, it is still teeming with complex ideas, many of which only become clear in the final act, where the story intentionally begins to fall apart. The story at the heart of this film is deliberately opaque and frankly a bit nonsensical – at first, we wonder whether or not the directors have essentially failed to pull together a consistent story, since there are leaps of logic and entire gaps in continuity that someone unaware of their process would mistake as lazy filmmaking. This is until we reach the last parts of the film, where we see Cattet and Forzani peeling away the glossy layers and revealing that their core intentions were to make a film that was as much about paying tribute to spy literature (both written and cinematic) as it was reflecting on the act of creation as a whole, which is where a lot of the most intriguing points of discussion in this film reside, and some of the more peculiar narrative decisions begin to make sense. Meta-fiction in itself is a fascinating topic, and has been at the root of so many absolutely exquisite works over the years, especially those that are built around the act of exploring the human condition as not only something we experience, but also write ourselves. Much of the story in Reflection in a Dead Diamond does not make sense, which we soon come to realise is a feature rather than a flaw, with its observations on the process of building a personal mythology in our minds (and then choosing whether we formally share it with others through putting pen to paper, proverbially speaking) or if we just allow it to remain in our imaginations, which is essentially the one discernible theme that we find genuinely surprises us when it comes to comprehending the scope of the film. Through all of this, we find the directors tackly the subject of memory in a way that is genuinely quite compelling, using many narrative layers to ultimately deliver one simple message, which is that our minds are limitless reservoirs of ideas, and that the boundary between our reality and how we process it into personal narratives is much more fragile than we actually would imagine.

While it would be tremendously interesting to take a more academic approach and unpack the layers that constitute Reflection in a Dead Diamond, no one is seeking out this film solely to be intellectually provoked (in fact, the realisation that there is indeed something lingering beneath the surface of this film is a surprise more than an expectation), which is something that the directors openly acknowledge as they cobble together what becomes a far more interesting piece of artistic commentary. As a film, divorcing it of any subtext or meaning, we find that this is one of the most visually arresting films of the current decade, and the directors spare no expense in evoking the spirit of the 1960s, which is precisely what draws us into this film. It is not the first attempt at a throwback to a bygone era, but something that Cattet and Forzani realise that most others working in the realm of homage seem to overlook is that its not enough to just throw several bright colours on screen, but rather a filmmaker needs to wrangle with several artistic cues – visual and aural in particular – to create something that gives off the illusion of being from the past. Had we not known that it was produced quite recently, you would be forgiven for thinking that you stumbled on some long-forgotten spy thriller from half a century ago, with the sleek filmmaking, composed of luscious colours and gloriously artificial setpieces, beautifully evoking the past in a way that we find to be nothing if not wholeheartedly exhilarating. It is also clear that the directors employed artisans who were at the forefront of their craft in absolutely every department – everything from the costumes to the production design on the visual side, and the score and sound production in terms of the aural landscape, are absolutely pitch-perfect, finding the balance between intentionally gaudy and sophisticated. We can genuinely believe this to be the kind of film that it is trying to replicate, and while it is sometimes quite tacky, it is entirely by design, being a masterful example of how far a filmmaker can push the boundaries of a genre while remaining relatively coherent in a way that is nothing if not wholeheartedly entertaining and often deeply compelling.

Reflection in a Dead Diamond manages to do something that is becoming increasingly rare in cinema lately: it genuinely takes us by surprise. What we are led to believe is just a relatively minor, trivial piece of filmmaking that attempts to pay tribute to a genre that has become entirely unrecognisable from what many consider to be its heyday. This is obviously not the case, since it immediately establishes itself as something far more engaging and provocative, a deftly-designed masterpiece that both honours the genre, and stands shoulder-to-shoulder with some of its greatest entries. To be fair, the Eurospy thriller is not a genre known to be particularly sophisticated or challenging, so it did seem like the directors did not have a necessarily high bar to clear. Nonetheless, we find the space to develop something so wonderfully challenging and compelling that the very act of working our way through this story becomes part of the experience. It’s more than just a novelty, since while we are drawn to the distinct aesthetic, we become engrossed in the more subtle cues that are situated right at the heart of the film, making it a far more layered affair than we would have expected. It moves at a rapid pace (and only runs a mere 87 minutes, which is the perfect length for such a film, since it allows it to tell a complete story, while being brisk enough to not overstay its welcome, especially with a narrative that is intentionally paper-thin), and is driven more by its atmosphere than it is any particular story – and this makes up the foundation for one of the year’s most intriguing works, a film that builds itself as a mood piece, paying homage while also challenging the confines of a genre many have seemingly forgotten about as time has progressed and the more elegant version of these films have developed. There’s always value in a well-crafted throwback, and Reflection in a Dead Diamond is an absolutely exquisite example of this very premise in practice, a provocative and daring piece of art that proves the importance of taking on a challenge and reaping the benefits in the process.