The
tenure process is not treating a studious young academic right, especially when
his unhelpful advisor bizarrely suggests he is a Catholic Royalist to one of
the Communist board members. Like many of his over-educated, over-credentialed
colleagues, Pietro Zinni finds himself unemployed, but a chance visit to a
smart-drug popping nightclub will give him Breaking
Bad ideas in Sydney Sibilia’s I Can
Quit Whenever I Want (trailer
here),
which screens during this year’s Panorama Europe, at the Museum of the Moving
Image.
Nobody
understands Zinni’s research, but it is brilliant. Unfortunately, that means
all the funding and the permanent position at stake will go to a politically connected
hack. Constantly nagged at home, Zinni even has trouble collecting from the
students he tutors on the side. When he uncharacteristically pursues one of his
deadbeats into a trendy nightspot, he happens to get a dose of the latest
designer drug. It is an eye-opening experience, but Zinni knows he can concoct
something better. Best of all, his new product will not be illegal under
Italian law, until the coppers duly add it to the national registry.
To
form his gang, Zinni will recruit a motley crew of under-employed academics,
each of whom comes with his own annoying foibles. The economist will craft the
business plan, the Latin scholars will handle sales, and the city archaeologist
(who was issued a municipal van with an all access parking pass) will be in
charge of distribution. Zinni and his former colleague Alberto will whip up
their special blend in the university lab. Unfortunately, the latter will start
sampling their product. Evidently, he never saw Scarface.
Comparisons
to Walter White are inescapable, but Quit
is also closely akin to Gianni Amelio’s super-temp film Intrepido, which bemoans the current
state of Italian unemployment. Right, so how’s adopting the Euro and
relinquishing the ability to devalue the Lira working out for everyone? Yet,
the bitter truth is probably none of these colorful characters has any business
working in academia—not even Zinni, who has no aptitude for teaching, as we see
on multiple occasions.
As
Zinni, Eduardo Leo makes a rather plodding everyman. On the other end of the
spectrum, Stefano Fresi indulges in plenty of shtick as Alberto. Despite the
thinness of her character, Valeria Solarino still shows some welcome signs of
life as Zinni’s significant other. The comedy is pretty broad here, but at
least Sergio Solli delivers a few cutting lines as the game-playing department
chair.
