THE PREMISE:

"A journalist and his female companion travel to interview a famous musician in Rome where a generous invite to a country estate becomes something much more than anyone expected." 

OUR MOVIE REVIEW:

Electra stages an attractive view. A glamorous Italian setting. Two young and beautiful couples. Frolicking in the afternoons. Wine, desserts, and other sweet temptations at night. Yet like many things ellusively charming, not all is what it seems once you look closer. And that makes Electra even more tasty.

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Described as a Gen Z riff on The Talented Mr. Ripley, Electra is wacky and surreal – yet is also dark with, to be spoiler-vague, murderous intent. This is a story where the flighty are questioningly serious and the cunning fall into being all-too amateurish. Through it all, Electra is an entirely compelling, and criminally-fun, movie.

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Hala Matar makes her feature debut with Electra, directing from a script co-written by Daryl Wein, who also co-stars, and Paul Sado. Wein plays Dylan, a journalist who travels to Rome to profile British musician/celebrity-du-jour Milo (Jack Farthing). Along for the ride is Dylan’s photographer girlfriend, Lucy (Abigail Cowen). Milo’s performance artist girlfriend, Francesa (Academy Award Nominee Maria Bakalova) completes the foursome and before you can say la dolce vita, Francesca invites them to a country house for some cold gelato, a lot of fun, and a little larceny.

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There is obviously more to Dylan’s intent than gaining an exclusive interview. There is a painting of a unicorn. The ethereal figure Electra, who haunts Dylan’s dreams. And a surprising amount of change-of-clothes from such an ordinary satchel, including a pale suit that is just-about David Byrne, Psycho Killer chic. In-between the bickering and posing, Matar jumps around breaking the routine into separate chapters. There are music videos and improv play-acting and nighttime tomfoolery. And neither couple are exactly who they say they are.

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Electra oozes in style. Matar cuts between on-screen graphics and bright sunny days countered with scowling, scheming, and claustrophobia within opulence. Truly, this makes a perfect viewing for the ADD youth of the 2020s.

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Yet, like the characters within, Matar plays it all deeper. There is a sinister tone undercutting the jubilation. When the focus is not on ice cream and balloons, Matar’s character study is presented as if Luca Guadagnino was directing a Hitchcock thriller. There really can be no higher compliment offered.

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Like all good things, the end comes a little too quickly, but the ghost of Electra will certainly linger. Here’s hoping that Hala Matar’s next project is equally exciting.