Political Thriller Stars at Noon Lacks Chemistry and Cohesion

Let the record show that French auteur Claire Denis is decidedly incapable of making a bad movie. As such, Stars at Noon—Denis’ second offering this year following Both Sides of the Blade—features many of the very best aspects of the director’s filmography. Sumptuous cinematography, magnificent tropical vistas and a beautifully moody original song from Denis’ long-time collaborators Tindersticks collide, offering an aesthetically rich tableau of political strife and interpersonal drama in Nicaragua. However, Stars at Noon is also devoid of other notable Denis staples: Kinetic sex scenes that exude a natural chemistry, incisive insights on the lasting legacy of colonialism in formerly occupied territories and actors working at the height of their abilities. The final product is visually and sonically luscious, but narratively and thematically lackluster—a frustrated misstep from a veteran artist that still deserves praise in the right places.

In present-day Nicaragua, young American Trish (Margaret Qualley) navigates a country in tumult: Costa Rican cops maintain a vigilant presence; president/pseudo-dictator Daniel Ortega still reigns after 15 years in command; COVID remains a constant source of anxiety. On top of the political situation, Trish’s own personal safety is precarious. Despite her status as an American “journalist” (though her actual ties to the industry are never revealed), Trish’s passport has been confiscated, barring her from returning to the U.S. Staying at a no-frills motel run by a local woman who’s sympathetic to her situation, Trish’s main hustle becomes visiting the luxury hotel, where foreigners stay relatively out-of-reach from the country’s unsavory political climate, and picking up powerful men willing to exchange a handful of American dollars for sex.

This is precisely how she meets Daniel (Joe Alwyn), a Brit who’s seemingly in town on business. In a last-ditch effort to leave Nicaragua, Trish quickly enmeshes herself in Daniel’s daily life while he stays at the high-end hotel. It’s not long before she realizes that he might be embroiled in an even more dangerous predicament than she is. Nonetheless, they become fiercely bonded—by circumstance, by flesh, by ignorance—and embark on a road trip to the Costa Rican border, engaging in plenty of passionate coitus along the way.

Adapted from the 1986 novel The Stars at Noon by American writer Denis Johnson, the script—co-written by the director, Léa Mysius and Andrew Litvack—updates its source material to perplexing effect. Johnson’s novel is rooted in the Nicaraguan Revolution of 1984, and his central Anglo characters are nameless. Denis originally invited Johnson to co-write the script with her; he declined, instead offering his blessing for her to adapt his novel for the screen. Denis should be particularly adept at helming such a story—ostensibly combining the neo-colonial urgency of White Material with the romantic desperation of Friday Night—yet these inclinations don’t quite mesh here.

The movie’s present-day approach is politically muddled, offering little cognizance of the current state of affairs in Central America. Interestingly, the tense border dispute and economic disparity between the comparatively affluent Costa Rica and the politically unstable Nicaragua loosely reflect the relationship between Mexico and the U.S., particularly as it pertains to the over-policing of the border, racist scapegoating and rampant deportations (in this case, of the Nicaraguan laborers seeking better pay in Costa Rica). Though Denis certainly doesn’t offer a history lesson in films like Chocolat or White Material, these projects directly relate to the lasting impact of French colonization in Africa, even mining from the director’s own experiences, prejudices and anti-racist resolutions to reflect the need for French acknowledgement of the perpetuation of these colonial atrocities.