Challengers

As tennis legend John McEnroe exclaimed: “You cannot be serious!” Neither is Challengers, a deliciously cheesy love triangle with sweat oozing from every frame to reflect its painstaking conviction.

Volleying between mockery and compassion for its trio of brooding athletes, this slick and steamy romantic comedy from director Luca Guadagnino (Call Me by Your Name) serves up some magnetic and gleefully over-the-top absurdity with crowd-pleasing bravado and fully invested performances. For those who buy in, it’s amusing in ways that might be completely unintentional.

At its core is a men’s singles championship match in a low-level pro tournament in upstate New York featuring slumping champion Art (Mike Faist) and career journeyman Patrick (Josh O’Connor). Seated front-row center is Art’s wife and coach, Tashi (Zendaya), watching intently.

While exchanging points, it becomes clear that hostility simmers beneath the surface, suggesting that each of the rivals is seeking redemption for different reasons, and that their fates are inextricably linked. For them, it’s the emotional equivalent of a Grand Slam final.

From there, flashbacks gradually fill in the details about their shared past dating back to their teenage years, including an unhealthy level of mutual intimacy, sexual tension, and off-the-court gamesmanship that raises the present-day stakes, with Tashi willingly caught in the middle.

The on-court sequences are staged with the vivid intensity of a cinematic prize fight. Guadagnino uses gimmicks galore to playfully enhance the tension, from a pulsating synthesizer score to a carefully orchestrated array of camera angles and movements. He contrasts slow motion with POV shots with blazing groundstrokes zipping within inches of our heads.

On one hand, the film is an emotionally grounded and richly detailed examination of the nomadic life of a professional athlete — reflecting how hard it is to get to the top and how much harder it is to stay there.

Despite some intriguing character dynamics, the nonlinear screenplay stumbles during a more formulaic probe of the vulnerability beneath their privileged veneer.

The winner of the climactic match is irrelevant, of course, but so is the result of their angst-ridden romantic travails. After all, it’s difficult to dig beyond the self-absorbed swagger — not to mention all the betrayal, deception, and manipulation — to sympathize with any of them.

With its clumsy metaphors and analogies, Challengers winds up feeling as shallow as its sex-obsessed triumvirate, who could be better served keeping their eyes on the ball.

Rated R, 131 minutes.