In the shimmering world of Luca Guadagnino’s latest release, Challengers, there’s plenty to revel in: love triangles, beautiful people, and the visceral energy of competitive sport. It’s the kind of cinematic cocktail that leaves audiences spellbound, resonating long after the credits roll.
But amidst the sweaty athletic bodies and tantalizing plot twists, there’s something else that refuses to fade from memory—the music. The soundtrack offers a smorgasbord of driving, thumping techno, from synth–pop to drum machines. The audience can almost picture themselves courtside, swept up in the pulsating beats that seem to echo with every bounce of the tennis ball. It’s hypnotic, it’s exhilarating, and combined with the delicate nuances of the remaining soundtrack, it’s quintessentially Guadagnino.
Challengers confirms for those familiar with Guadagnino’s oeuvre what they already know. This isn’t just background noise; it’s a character in its own right. When Tashi Duncan (Zendaya) slyly dangles courtside as the prize to a match between her competing suitors Art Donaldson (Mike Faist) and Patrick Zweig (Josh O’Connor), the soundtrack isn’t content to merely complement the action—it practically leads it. When the trio engage in a lustful but comically revealing threeway makeout session, the echo of “Uncle ACE” by Blood Orange in the background relentlessly tells all. It’s yet another lead in a drama where every note heightens the stakes for the characters and plunges the audience deeper into the protagonists' tangled emotions.
The movie is Guadagnino’s second Nine Inch Nails collaboration after the cannibal–romantic horror adaptation Bones and All. Besides brooding theatrical music videos and the popularization of industrial rock, the duo are also known for constructing soundtracks to other acclaimed dramas from Mid90s to The Social Network. In Challengers, as in their previous collaboration, their focus on contrast—loud and soft, intense and delicate—is deliberate. Throughout the film, a distinct electronic sound is interspersed with delicate classical elements—the eye of an otherwise EDM storm.
Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross use this “fourth lead” to several thematic ends. It is the musical representation of Zweig’s surplus drive, Donaldson’s lack thereof, and Duncan’s robbed aspirations. Not only does the narrative surround an elaborate rivalry, but the music embodies this conflict itself, and aims to develop contending themes in the film: passion and apathy, opportunity and renewal, what was and what could have been, etc. It’s also heavily interactive, coming and going depending on which character is in focus, ultimately underpinning the emotional depth of the film and complementing the entire plot of the movie.
For Bones and All, any incentive to watch—besides seeing Timothée Chalamet fervidly sink his teeth into human flesh—is the equally captivating soundtrack. Here, NIN opted for a clash between a different set of musical characteristics: a slow and primarily acoustic melody with more intense, haunting synth episodes. This combo adapts perfectly to the character’s development and movie’s thematic exploration of love, loss, and violence. Cannibalism—literature’s most potent metaphor for love—demands a delicate balance between the grotesque and the tender. And not only did Guadagnino hit the nail on the head, but Reznor and Ross’s original score provides a compelling sense of authenticity that is arguably the best part of the film.
The composed soundtrack reveals itself over the course of the film, and with a subtlety that is well–matched for the general scarcity and poverty of the character’s lives. There is no need for an orchestra when the simple acoustic guitar theme and restrained electronics create a story of their own, equally as interesting as the narrative itself.
Perhaps the most memorable score of Guadagnino’s films is Sufjan Steven’s in the coming of age romance Call Me By Your Name. Based on the novel of the same title, the score remains relatively uniform, with delicate, acoustic–forward contributions like “Mystery of Love” and “Visions of Gideon,” alongside equally evocative tracks. The music is intimately woven into the fabric of the film, and described by Guadagnino as the “emotional narrator to the film,” mirrors closely 17–year–old Elio’s own musical interests. Here we see the soundtrack support the narrative by developing music as an essential pillar of youth—something that Guadagnino understands entirely.
Guadagnino lets his characters interact with the music in a diegetic sense. Dancing is a gleaming tribute to this, as such sequences recur throughout his filmography, often as opportunities for bodies and desires to collide. Whether it’s Zendaya getting down to Nelly’s “Hot in Herre” in one of Challenger’s many flashback scenes, or Timothee Chalamet and co stars grooving to “Love My Way” by The Psychedelic Furs.
Speaking of brilliant alt–rock collaborators, the soundtrack for Guadagnino’s remake of the 1977 cult classic Suspiria, directed by Dario Argento, was none other than Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke. The musician’s enlistment in the film not only aided in the formation of a distinguished, critically–celebrated soundtrack, an art form in itself and highly anticipated prior to the movie’s release, but it also showcased the director's determination to further separate his movie from Argento’s. Where the original featured seventies band Goblin, with sounds of crashing, electronic prog rock and a backdrop of neon colors, Guadagnino’s remake takes the opposite direction. The 2018 film lacks any bit of that abrasiveness, instead opting for an array of muted hues and an uneasy tranquility laced with Yorke's haunting falsetto.
For a horror movie, it's easy to understand the appeal of eerie, sinister music, and the musician makes his score a living, breathing, personality, extending beyond horror into other territories. As a period piece, Yorke hones in on the film’s time period with elements of Krautrock and ‘60s psychedelia. His lyrics are poetic and political, fitting the heavy thematic emphasis that Guadagnino plays into.
The attention to musical nuance is obvious, and the indelible imprint of energetic EDM, haunting synth, or delicate acoustic themes—long after the credits roll—is no mistake. By allowing music to boldly assert its presence alongside the actors and storyline, Guadagnino and his excellent choice of collaborators creates an immersive experience where viewers not only see and hear, but feel the visceral impact of every note.
