Challengers is an audacious entertainment. Yes, Luca Guadagnino’s film has more on its mind that jostling the audience with titillation and kinetic energy. It’s about the damage of dreams deferred and the possibility that intensely driven strivers might never be truly satisfied. Amidst its pantingly horny flaunting of athletic young bodies and provocatively phallic foods, the movie considers the lasting damage of denying one’s true self, mistaking the ardor for a person for the passions for an activity and vice versa. The psychology is satisfying, but, man oh man, it’s really all that bright brashness on display that makes Challengers into a thunderous dazzler. Armed with the staggering weapons of Marco Costa’s expert editing, Sayombhu Mukdeeprom crisp cinematography, and Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’s heart-racing score, Guadagnino assembles a cinematic experience that simply does not let up, equally intense in ball’s-eye view depiction of a heated tennis match or the comparative calm of flirtatious gamesmanship in the breezy comfort of an impossibly idyllic beach at night. Zendaya, Mike Faist, and Josh O’Connor are all wildly charismatic while showing the wounds of their characters and smartly signaling the changes in their individual bearings as the narrative zigs and zags through time. It’s as if the film is designed to simulate every breathless sensation a human being can have. If that’s the goal, Guadagnino smashes an ace.