Open Roads ’24: Adagio

No matter how old they get, aging gangsters like Cammello are always going to be dangerous. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t still be alive. Despite their differences, they will do their best to protect a teenaged boy from the crooked cop he knows too much about in Stefano Sollima’s Adagio, which screens during this year’s Open Roads: New Italian Cinema.

With fires raging outside the city limits, Rome looks like it is on the brink of an apocalypse. Even if it is the end of the world, Vasco and his extralegal task-force want to film a high-profile politician engaged in compromising sexual acts at an Eyes Wide Shut-style orgy. They intend to use Manuel to get it. Having arrested him for solicitation, they will expose him at school and in his neighborhood, unless he cooperates. However, when Manuel notices the many cameras recording the party’s debauchery, he gets spooked and flees.

Realizing he is a threat to Vasco, Manuel takes refuge with blind Polniuman, a former colleague of his ex-gangster father Daytona, in a now defunct Roman criminal syndicate. Polniuman is as shrewd as ever, but he never muscle even when he could see, so he sends the teenager to Cammello, who is still a grizzled bull of a man. He and Daytona had a bitter falling out, but Polniuman knows he won’t turn the young boy away.

Sollima is responsible for the worst Tom Clancy adaptation ever, Without Remorse, which showed zero understanding of what his books were all about (here’s a hint: the U.S. military are supposed to be the good guys). However, he totally gets Italian gangster dramas. Adagio is gritty as heck and achingly tragic. The nights are hot and humid, while the sky disconcertingly glows, thanks to the smoke from the fires. That all makes an especially potent setting for film noir. Incidentally, the way he and cinematographer Paolo Carnera depict the crimson Roman skies is no exaggeration. Take it from someone who was in New York last year for the orange atmosphere resulting from Canada’s out of control forest fires.

While Adagio is far from perfect (frankly, Manuel is a big nothing of a character), it is super-stylish and Pierfrancesco Favino is massively hardnosed as Cammello. Favino is physically imposing, but his screen-presence is even larger. You would hardly recognize him from The War Machine, but he can play a strong silent type on land as well as at sea.

ICFF ’18: The Girl in the Fog

Det. Vogel’s weapon of choice is particularly dangerous. He wields the media. A well-timed feeding frenzy will cause many hardened serial killers to reveal themselves. However, there is always the risk they will turn on him. That happened during his last investigation, the co-called “Mutilator Case.” He has come to Avechot in the Italian Alps in search of the missing Anna Lou Kastner, but the restoration of his reputation is his real goal in Donato Carrisi’s The Girl in the Fog (trailer here), adapted from his own novel, which screens up north, as part of the Italian Contemporary Film Festival.

Two months after Kastner’s presumed abduction, Vogel is admitted to the hospital in a near catatonic state. He had a nasty auto accident, but the blood covering his clothes is not his own. Staff head-shrinker Dr. Augusto Flores is roused to interrogate the interrogator, whose investigation unfolds in media res.

Vogel is relatively sensitive while dealing with the Kastner family, but when they are not around, he is openly contemptuous of their Evangelical faith. He also clashes with the provincial police. However, it turns out Anna Lou really is the pious small-town girl she presented herself to be. She is no Laura Palmer, which is good for his media campaign. About halfway through, circumstances will cast suspicion on Prof. Loris Martini, who teaches English at Anna Lou’s high school. It is all highly circumstantial, but that does not trouble Vogel or his media hounds. At this point, whatever you’re assuming—don’t.

Fog is a little slow going at first, but once it has all its pieces in place, it down shifts into an especially dark and cynical psycho thriller. Compared to this film, Gone Girl is practically a love letter to Nancy Grace and the tabloid cable news media. Even though Carrisi’s novel has been translated into English, it is hard to see any mid-sized distributors taking this one on. Think of it as the absolute polar opposite of Spotlight.

Toni Servillo was born to play brainy incisive characters like Vogel. Of course, it is great fun to watch him cutting off fools at the knees. He is rock-solid as Vogel, but the detective is still rather a cold fish.  Hopefully, we can eventually see him play a really flamboyant smarty-pants sleuth in the Sherlock Holmes tradition. Plus, the Italian-fluent Jean Reno is no mere walk-on as Dr. Flores. Their periodic framing banter holds a good deal of significance. As Martini, Alessio Boni will have viewings pulling their hair out in frustration, but that is certainly a sign of effectiveness. Lorenzo Richelmy also makes the most his key third act moments as Det. Borghi, the junior copper assigned to Vogel.

Much like Hereditary, Fog also uses scale models to help set the scene and establish geographical proximities in the small hamlet of Avechot. In this case, it is not quite as creepy (how could it be?), but still definitely heightens the sinister vibe. Cinematographer Federico Masiero does his part to dial up the moodiness too. Basically, this is a quality Euro thriller, much like what mystery fans have come to expect from Scandinavian imports. Highly recommended, The Girl in the Fog screens this Wednesday (6/20) in Toronto and Tuesday (6/19) and Thursday (6/21) in Vancouver, as part of ICFF 2018.

Open Roads ’17: The Confessions

Central bankers should be more like Roberto Salus and his fellow Carthusian monks. Whenever the former talk, they needlessly rile the markets. IMF director Daniel Roché will never make that mistake again, because he has died under rather mysterious circumstances. Salus might very well understand what happened, but he is apparently bound by the confessional seal as well as a rather slippery vow of silence in Roberto Andò’s The Confessions (trailer here), which screens during Open Roads: New Italian Cinema 2017.

For reasons that are never explicitly clear, Roché has invited Salus to attend the current G8 conference in an austerely swanky resort. It turns out the global financier wanted Salus to hear his confession, if it can be properly called that. The next morning, Roché’s body is discovered—an apparent suicide using the plastic bag Salus that previously held the monk’s suspiciously missing digital recorded. Would Salus ever secretly record a confession? That would be a grave betrayal of trust, but it sure would make the investigating secret service agents’ lives easier.

In addition to the dead body, there is also intrigue swirling around a controversial proposal Roché has pushed through, over the objections of Italy and Canada. Could they be related? Claire Seth suspects as much. Like Salus, the J.K. Rowling-like leftist children’s author was invited to observe the summit, along with aging rocker Michel Wintzl. Frankly, the notion the guardians of the western world’s financial systems would be interested in their insights is absolutely terrifying, but sadly far from impossible.

The Confessions starts out like a moody Claude Chabrol mystery, featuring a picturesque setting and a set-up ripe with potential. Unfortunately, the second and third acts are fatally mired in a morass of conspiratorial hokum. Andò is absolutely convinced the G8 would happily pass a proposal that deliberately makes the big industrialized nations richer and the small developing countries poorer, but he clearly has no idea what that policy would be. As a result, there are endlessly awkward conversations in which the finance ministers refer to “that thing we agreed to.” Instead of a juicy whodunit, Confessions degenerates into a middling Seinfeld episode.

It is a shame, because Toni (Great Beauty) Servillo is terrific as Salus. He is wise and humane, but in a rather astringent way that isn’t the least bit cutesy or shticky. Connie Nielsen also adds a refined presence as Seth and Marie-Josée Croze is entertainingly scandalous as the Canadian minister. Unfortunately, most of the other power brokers are standard issue stock characters.

In case the G8 is also looking for input from movie reviewers, I would advise a slow but steady increase in the money supply. Monetarism: it works every time. Andò would also be well-advised to limit the ideological soap-boxing in his next film. It completely sabotages everyone’s efforts in The Confession. A big disappointment, it screens twice on Thursday (6/1), the opening day of Open Roads, at the Walter Reade Theater.

Viva la Liberta: Politicians and Madmen

Enrico Oliveri is as tired as his platform. The current leader of Italy’s leftwing opposition was considered the safe choice, pretty much guaranteeing their continued electoral futility. It hardly matters when Oliveri precipitously disappears. In fact, the party just might find itself in better hands when he is secretly replaced with his legitimately certifiable twin in Roberto Andò’s Viva la Libertà (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

The reserved and increasingly depressed Oliveri has become a convenient punching for frustrated party members. His business-like relationship with his wife Anna does not provide much joy either, so finally walks away from everything, turning up unannounced on his former lover Danielle’s doorstep in France.

With elections fast-approaching, Oliveri’s chief of staff Andrea Bottini stalls for time as best he can. As a temporary stop-gap, he recruits Oliveri’s lunatic identical twin to impersonate him until Oliveri returns. However, the recently de-institutionalized brother, who writes under the pseudonym Giovanni Ernani, demonstrates a far greater flair for politicking. Suddenly, Bottini is not so sure he wants his old boss back.

Ironically, it is unclear whether Andò realizes Ernani’s red meat demagoguery is just as substance-less as Oliveri’s mealy-mouthed prevarications. Aside from some class conscious blaming “the man,” there is really nothing to Ernani’s supposedly inspiring rhetoric, especially his third act recitation of Bertolt Brecht’s “To the Wavering,” which is a great way to say precisely nothing. It would all be rather clever if it were deliberate, but one gets the impression Andò accidentally satirized himself.

Regardless, Toni Servillo clearly has fun mugging and goofing as Ernani, but he is far more compelling as the world weary Oliveri, coming to grips with his personal and political failings. However, it is Valerio Mastandrea who supplies the film’s real heart and soul as Bottini, a tragic true believer not yet completely disillusioned. Unfortunately, most of the women are rather bland supporting characters, even the Machiavellians (although Giulia Andò’s snake tattoo certainly makes an impression, especially for a junior aide). Eric Trung Nguyen is similarly underutilized as Danielle’s filmmaker husband, but at least he adds some diversity.

Given Servillo’s remarkably accomplished work in films like Il Divo, Dormant Beauty and the Oscar winning Great Beauty, expectations will be high for Viva, but it is a surprisingly lukewarm affair. Nonetheless, its lack of ideological brass knuckles makes it relatively accessible to a wide spectrum of viewers, much like Ivan Reitman’s Dave, except even less pointed. Harmless and sometimes pleasant in a non-taxing way, Viva la Libertà is mostly just recommended for fans of Italian cinema (and Servillo in particular) pining for a fix, when it opens this Friday (11/7) in New York at the Quad Cinema.

Sorrentino’s The Great Beauty

Writers write, that’s what they do.  Jep Gambardella still qualifies, just barely.  After the publication of his acclaimed first novel, he chose to spend the rest of his career penning Vanity Fair-style celebrity profiles.  It was much easier, but far less satisfying. Gambardella belatedly realizes this holds true for all aspects of his life in Paolo Sorrentino’s The Great Beauty (trailer here), Italy’s official foreign language Oscar submission, which opens this Friday in New York.

It is Garbardella’s sixty-fifth birthday and his social circle is ready to party like they are really his friends.  The magazine writer is in his element.  However, he turns uncharacteristically pensive when he learns his great lost lover has passed away, perhaps still harboring undiminished feelings for him.  Hoping to experience a similar passion, Gambardella commences a relationship with Ramona, the daughter of his old strip-club owner crony, who still works in the family business at the impressive age of forty-two.  Perhaps there is some substance to their affair, but at the very least, her presence on his arm thoroughly scandalizes Rome’s high society.

A rapturous viewing experience, Great Beauty must be the most elegant looking and sounding film since Luca Guadagnino’s I am Love.  Frankly, it takes considerable guts to make a film that so perilously invites comparison to Fellini’s La Dolce Vita, but Sorrentino has boldly gone there nonetheless.  He masterfully maintains a mood that is palpably seductive and elegiac.  Indeed, Great Beauty is likely to induce a midlife crisis in viewers, regardless of their age or accomplishments.  Yet, it is an elusive cinematic statement that slips through your fingers whenever you try to analyze it.

Sorrentino’s frequent collaborator Toni Servillo gives the career performance of an accomplished career as Gambardella.  Wonderfully urbane and devilishly witty, he nonetheless acutely expresses Gambardella’s each and every regret. This is Academy Award caliber work, but Great Beauty is so refined and mature it will probably be lucky just to make the foreign language cut.

Of course, Servillo is not laboring alone.  As Ramona, Sabrina Ferilli’s earthy vulnerability perfectly complements Servillo’s cerebral angst, while the manic melancholy of Carlo Vendone as Gambardella’s writer-associate further heightens the Fellini-esque vibe, whereas Giovanna Vignola is simply incomparable as his acerbic editor, the diminutive Dadana.

Clearly, nobody shoots statuary and architectural edifices like cinematographer Luca Bigazzi.  Similarly, the themes composed by Lele Marchitelli, as well as several shrewdly licensed selections from the likes of Arvo Pärt, provide a rich feast for the ears.  Altogether, Great Beauty is a powerful and assured film on every level.  Very highly recommended (especially to Academy members), it opens this Friday (11/15) in New York at the Lincoln Plaza Cinemas.

FCS ’13: Dormant Beauty

Don’t call Eluana Englaro the Italian Terri Schiavo.  The latter case was scandalously misreported by the drive-by media, as civil libertarian Nat Hentoff passionately decried at the time.  At least Englaro’s medical decisions were made by a loved one with no conflicts of interest.  That certainly did not stop Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi from getting involved, thereby guaranteeing considerable drama.  Director-co-writer Marco Bellocchio portrays the resulting media feeding frenzy through the eyes of three sets of fictional characters in Dormant Beauty (trailer here), which screens as a selection of Film Comment Selects 2013.

After a prolonged legal battle, Englaro’s father has transferred her to a private clinic in Udine, where her feeding will be discontinued.  She really is in a persistent vegetative state.  Berlusconi is not taking this lying down.  Legislation has been introduced to save Englaro.  Senator Uliano Beffardi intends to buck his party and vote against it.  His reasons are personal.  He once had to make a similar choice for his late wife, but his relationship with his pro-life daughter Maria has been strained ever since.

The Englaro case also hits close to home for the retired actress known simply as “Divine Mother.”  She has preserved her beloved comatose daughter for years in hopes she will eventually wake-up.  Meanwhile, Dr. Padillo is not following the case nearly as closely as his colleagues, but he is determined to prevent a recently admitted drug addict from killing herself.

Bellocchio applies a dramatic fairness doctrine to partisans on both sides, except the former PM.  Did he really say Englaro looks healthy enough to “give birth to a son?”  Afraid so.  Look, say what you will about Berlusconi, but the man is never dull.  Frankly, if Bellocchio had anything nice to say about him, he would probably be drummed out of every directors’ guild.  In contrast, his depiction of the senator and his daughter is far from simplistic.

In fact, Maria is a wholly sympathetic character, who strikes up an unlikely romance with Roberto, the long-suffering brother of a wildly unstable pro-euthanasia demonstrator.  Their bipartisan connection is one of the most appealing courtships seen on film in years.  Likewise, her relationship with her father evolves in ways that are mature, believable, and satisfying.

Unfortunately, the other two story arcs are not nearly as rewarding.  Divine Mother mainly seems to be in the film to compensate for Roberto’s creepy brother.  Granted, she is played by the film’s biggest star, Isabelle Huppert, and valid reasons are established for cartoonish Catholicism.  Nonetheless, the deck is clearly stacked against her.  While her sequences are a tonal mishmash, they still most closely approach the operatic sweep of Bellocchio’s kind of awesome Vincere.

Considerably more engaging, the scenes shared by the doctor and his suicidal patient are well acted (by Bellocchio’s brother Pier Gregorio and Maya Sansa) and ring with honesty.  They just feel like they were spliced in to further obscure Bellocchio’s personal position.  That is a worthy impulse, but it would be unnecessary had he just focused on the Beffardis, whom most viewers will consider the primary subjects anyway.

Toni Servillo is absolutely fantastic as Beffardi, a decent man totally befuddled by the modest importance bestowed on him late in life.  He never plays the part as a mouthpiece for a certain position, but as a world weary widower father.  By the same token, Alba Rohrwacher demonstrates perfect pitch as the rebelliously devout Maria.  She develops some palpable opposites-attract chemistry with Michele Riondino’s Roberto and gives the audience hope we can all grow and develop.

Dormant Beauty is sometimes a great film.  There is some wickedly funny satire of the Italian senators that does not necessarily skew left or right, simply skewering the political class instead.  Arguably, this is a case where less would have been more.  Recommended for Servillo, Rohrwacher, and the compelling vibe of the Udine protests, Dormant Beauty is recommended for fans of Italian cinema and political drama when it screens today (2/20), Friday (2/22), and Sunday (2/24) at the Howard Gilman Theater as part of Film Comment Selects 2013.