For
his novelish memoiry thing, pop-tenor Andrea Bocelli chose not to write about
himself, but his alter-analog, Amos Bardi. Based on the subsequent film
adaptation, we can readily see why he would want to maintain a layer of separation
between himself and the treacly story. It is especially trying to spend so much
time with Bardi as a sickly child, seeing precious little of the opera world
most fans presumably came for. Indeed, the balance is all off throughout
Michael Radford’s The Music of Silence (trailer here), which is now playing in New York.
Cheers
to Bocelli (and Bardi, whoever he might be) for overcoming adversity to become
one of the most successful tenors in the world. Granted, he has cut some
purist-rankling pop sessions, but he can still land “Nessun Dorma” as well as
anyone. Unfortunately, we only hear it over the closing credits of Silence. Instead, we sit through two
full acts of Bardi’s childhood surgeries and years spent in a boarding school
for the blind.
Music
really isn’t in the picture until Bardi’s bachelor uncle takes him to a talent
contest, which he nails. Yet, just as young Bardi develops a reputation, his
voice changes, prompting years of silence. However, under the tough but
protective tutelage of “The Maestro,” twenty-something Bardi once again finds
his voice, but can he find fame too?
Frankly,
it is hard to care about the wooden Bardi and his by-the-numbers success story.
If anything, this portrait-of-the-artist-as-a-young-man is bizarrely passive,
largely revolving around whether or not Italian rock star Zucchero would ever call
him for a vaguely promised joint-performance. Right, so let’s just keep
watching the phone.
Most
of the cast is blandly boring, in a TV movie kind of way, including Toby
Sebastian as the Bardi fellow. However, Antonio Banderas brings a bit of flair
to the film as the unnamed “Maestro.” He has definitely been scuffling the last
few years, but his work ethic has not flagged (apparently, quite the contrary)
and he has livened up a number of almost direct-to-DVD movies (but honestly, Bullet Head and Acts of Vengeance are really good). Alas, there is not much that he
can do here.
The
blandness of Silence is a bit
surprisingly, considering it was helmed by a refined craftsman like Michael
Radford, who directed Il Postino, 1984,
White Mischief, and a documentary about the late, great Michel Petrucciani.
Maybe he just wanted a holiday in Tuscany. At least there is nothing really terrible
or otherwise objectionable about the film. It is just boring. Not recommended, The Music of Silence is now playing in
New York, at the Cinema Village.
