After Garry Marshall made Valentine’s Day and New Year’s Eve it seemed he’d run out of secular days celebrated in America, at least on the assumption that Halloween and Independence Day were taken. (Are you asking, what about Thanksgiving? That’s also already taken: Eli Roth is at work making a full feature version of the parody trailer we saw in Grindhouse, I kid you not.)

But… yes, of course, there was always going to be Mother’s Day.

This one is a tougher sell than the previous two: a glance at the title and it’s hard to avoid thinking of pink doilies. Unlike New Year’s Day, this is not exactly a day of celebration for all (less than half the world’s population can be a mother, and not all of the remainder even wants to); and opportunities for romantic pairings are bound to be more limited.

But Marshall, vulgar expert showman that he is, won’t let that kind of stuff stop him. Like a brassier, lowbrow version of Woody Allen, he weaves together half a dozen or so mother-related stories, each one rom-commy to the hilt, and he’s determined to make us enjoy this material in spite of ourselves.

Along for the ride is, as usual, an all-star cast of staples of the genre including Jennifer Aniston, Julia Roberts, Kate Hudson, and more. And once again, whenever anyone is constantly referred to but also constantly off screen, it will turn out to be someone from one of the other storylines – you can amuse yourself trying to work out which one.

Marianne Lane (Swinton) is an aging rock star in rest after a throat operation, recovering on the evocative Mediterranean island of Pantelleria. Marianne is being nursed back to health by her partner Paul (Schoenaerts) and laments how the wild days of her youth now seem so far away. But this intimate and idyllic setting is soon interrupted by Harry (Fiennes) and his daughter Penny (Johnson), who arrive and bring with them all manner of secrets and nostalgia.

An edgy psychological contest of wits soon develops between four characters, each with their own unique agenda and starkly different traits. Fiennes is strong as loud-mouthed record producer Harry, particularly when duelling with Swinton’s silent, post-operation Marianne. Much of the enjoyment of this film comes in trying to discern the wildly unpredictable motives of the characters. Who will end up with – or separated from – who?

A Bigger Splash is a new take on Jacques Deray’s now-cult 1969 film La Piscine, and director Guadagnino does well to re-enact much of what made that film a classic: the subtly erupting erotic tension, the torpid Mediterranean setting, the mystery. Yet, this is no mere remake – Guadagnino has made a new and altogether different film, stirring things up in much the same ways his sordid characters do in the film.