How do we consume celebrity images today? Perhaps by diving headfirst into the heatwave of fantasy. This idea echoes the poignant world of David Hockney, whose passing this month feels less like a personal loss and more like the sudden, intense arrival of summer itself.
Hockney, the Yorkshire-born painter, was a master of capturing languorous, sun-drenched moments in his iconic California canvases. Standing before one of his enormous cerulean paintings transports us instantly to a world defined by swimming pools, sliding doors, blue skies, and the heady scent of chlorine—a perfect, sun-bleached fantasy.
Director Jack Hazan attempts to recreate this exact sensation in his film <A Bigger Splash>, a documentary that borrows its title from one of Hockney’s most famous works. The movie follows the young painter over three years, tracing his struggle to find inspiration following a devastating separation from his model and muse, Peter Schlesinger.
Through Hazan’s lens, the film doesn’t just document the process; it interrogates the very nature of celebrity. It peels back the layers of Hockney’s public image, exposing the fascinating tensions between the artist’s private personality and his carefully constructed public persona. In doing so, Hazan offers one of the earliest cinematic permutations of modern reality television, long before personality-driven media commodified everyday life.
The film is an unflinching look at the quotidian reality of fame. Hazan grants viewers mesmerising access to Hockney’s private world, even capturing moments within his studio and allowing him unfettered access to his home—including a scene where he joined Hockney in the shower. Yet, the true power of <A Bigger Splash> lies not just in this raw intimacy but in its startling subversion of reality.
The film challenges the cool exterior surrounding many celebrated figures. Like Andy Warhol, who used his image as a costume to hide his outsider status, Hockney’s public façade is peeled away. Hazan treats the artist like a character, indulging in the self-mythology that modern media so expertly crafts—much like contemporary shows such as Keeping Up With the Kardashians or Selling Sunset—treating him as someone wonderfully unreal.
The narrative often follows a soft scripting, where characters flirt with the camera during reflections on heartbreak. This self-conscious staging creates a sense of instability, immersing the audience in a world where everyone seems simultaneously familiar and completely fictional. The boundaries between reality and representation blur beautifully.
Formal trickery intensifies this feeling of immersion. Hockney’s paintings frequently appear within the frame, blurring the lines between art and mise-en-scène. This visual play continues when characters stand before them, modelling the porous boundary between what is real and what is painted. One particularly striking moment features designer Ossie Clark posing with his cat in front of a portrait with his wife, Celia Birtwell, evoking the feeling that time and memory can be revisited through painting.
The film delves into hazy dream sequences where Hockney sleeps seamlessly transition into lyrical visions. In one beautiful sequence, we witness Schlesinger completely nude swimming while joined by an entourage of other young men diving in together. This scene marries the visual language of Hockney’s art with a more erotic sensibility, combining poolside imagery with the kind of sensual heat found in works like Physique Pictorial.
This blend of the dazzling and the deeply strange—the juxtaposition of intense desire, artistic representation, and aquatic freedom—lends the film an undeniable formal strangeness. Despite some critics labeling it ‘boring’ or ‘stuffy’, this very subversiveness is what makes <A Bigger Splash> such a perfect tribute to Hockney. It reminds us that the artist could never settle for mere reality; he always sought an escape route into a world filled with brilliant sunshine, boys, and the alluring, unreal possibility of the pool.
Credit: Little White Lies
