Paolo Sorrentino

THE HAND OF GOD: coming of age, shaped by events

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Photo caption: Toni Servillo, Teresa Saponangelo and Filippo Scotti) in THE HAND OF GOD. Courtesy of Netflix.

The Hand of God is filmmaker Paolo Sorrentino’s own coming of age story – and a time capsule of 1986 Naples. The kinda-fictional stand-in for Sorrentino is the directionless 16-year-old Fabietto (Filippo Scotti), who enjoys family life with his boisterous, ever-joking parents (Toni Servillo and Teresa Saponangelo). Events occur, one profoundly tragic, which pivot Fabietto into a future career in cinema.

The young Fabietto is very passive, a bobber floating on the surface of his tumultuous family and his rowdy hometown. Besides being rocked by the tragedy, he is deluged by the energy of a sexy, funny and mentally ill aunt, a formidable dowager baroness, a crazily impulsive smuggler and a bombastically narcissistic film director. He is a sensitive kid, one who is triggered into a panic attack when his mother, usually his rock, has her own meltdown.

The title of movie, as even casual sports fans may recognize, is a reference to soccer star Diego Maradona, whom the Naples soccer club broke the bank to acquire for seven seasons. As the film opens, Fabietto, with the rest of Naples, is transfixed by the possibility, then just a rumor, of getting Maradona. When Maradona leads Napoli to a league championship, Fabietto has been numbed by grief and is juxtaposed against the rest of his city in ecstatic celebration.

Luisa Ranieri in THE HAND OF GOD. Courtesy of Netflix.

The cast is very effective, but the standouts portray the key female parts – Fabietto’s mom (Teresa Saponangelo), his aunt Patrizia (Luisa Ranieri), and the Baroness (Betty Pedrazzi).

Nothing is more personal than one’s own coming of age, and Sorrentino, describing The Hand of God, says, “Almost everything is true”.

I think that, of all current filmmakers, Sorrentino (Il Divo, The Great Beauty, Youth) makes the most visually and striking beautiful movies. The Great Beauty won the Best Foreign Language Oscar. In that film, Sorrentino follows his protagonist (played by Servillo) through a series of strikingly beautiful Roman settings (including lots of gorgeously still Roman dawns.) If you’ve been to Rome, you know that it is a generally chaotic city with unexpected islands of solitude. Here in The Hand of God, Sorrentino gives this treatment to his own hometown, the grittier and more humble Naples.

The Hand of God opens with a remarkable 2 1/2-minute drone/helicopter shot that takes us from the ocean to Naples and back to the ocean; as the camera nears the city, the soundtrack gradually picks up the sounds of urban bustle.

In one very brief but inspired scene, Sorrentino shows us the casting call for extras in a Fellini film. (You can only imagine.)

How audience-friendly is The Hand of God? In real life, which this film seeks to reflect, events happen randomly. In contrast, a narrative screenplay would ideally organize the plot artificially in a way to make the story compelling. So, some viewers may find The Hand of God too disjointed to be satisfying. For sure, it’s not as good a film as The Great Beauty or Youth.

The Hand of God is now streaming on Netflix. I also recommend the 6-minute Netflix featurette with director Sorrentino discussing the film.

on TV: THE GREAT BEAUTY – decadence, stunning imagery and the beauties of Rome itself

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Toni Servillo (center) in THE GREAT BEAUTY

On Sunday, November 29, Turner Classic Movies will air The Great Beauty (La grande belleza), which begins as its protagonist Gep Gambardella is celebrating his 65th birthday in a feverishly hedonistic party. Gep authored a successful novel in his twenties, which has since allowed him the indulgent life of a celebrity journalist, bobbing from party to party among Rome’s shallow rich.

Gep is having a helluva time, but now he reflects on the emptiness of his milieu and the superficial accomplishments of his past 40 years. As he alternates introspection and indulgence, we follow him through a series of strikingly beautiful Roman settings. (And, because Gep parties all night, we see lots of gorgeously still Roman dawns.)

The Great Beauty is foremost an extraordinarily beautiful art film. If you’ve been to Rome, you know that it is a generally chaotic city with unexpected islands of solitude. The Great Beauty captures this aspect of the Eternal City better than any other film I’ve seen. On one level, The Great Beauty is very successful Rome porn.

THE GREAT BEAUTY

Writer-director Paolo Sorrentino also explores the moral vacuity of the very rich and the party life. It’s the Italy of Silvio Berlusconi, whom Sorrentino blames for enabling a national culture of escapism. These themes, along with the main character and the movie’s structure are of course nearly identical to Fellini’s great La Dolce Vita (1960), but The Great Beauty is more accessible, funnier and a bit more hopeful – and much more of a showcase for the cityscape of Rome. Sorrentino provides plenty of laughs, especially with a gourmet-obsessed cardinal and a cadaverous celebrity nun with a Mephistopheles-looking handler.

It’s hard to imagine an actor better suited to play Gep than Toni Servillo. Servillo perfectly captures both the happiness Gep takes in carnal pleasure and his self-criticism for giving his entire life to it. Servillo’s Gep is brazenly proud of his own cynicism, until we see his humanity breaking through at a funeral. Servillo is even magnificent in wearing Gep’s impressive collection of sports jackets.

There’s so much to The Great Beauty – stunning imagery, introspection, social criticism, sexual decadence, fine performances, humor and a Rome travelogue – each by itself worth watching the film.  The Great Beauty won the Best Foreign Language Oscar. If you miss it on TCM, you can still stream it from Amazon, Apple TV, Vudu, YouTube, Google Play, kanopy and the Criterion Channel. Courtesy of the Criterion Channel, here’s a illustrative clip.

LORO: just eye candy

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Kasia Smutniak and Toni Servillo in LORO

Loro is director Paolo Sorrentino’s take on the career end of the despicable Italian media mogul and former prime minister Silvio Berlusconi. The Berlusconi character has a different name, but there’s no mistake that it is the hair-dyed, ever-grinning Berlusconi.

The movie Loro is actually the combination of two television programs. In the first, we see Berlusconi’s corruption through the POV of another amoral grasper, Sergio (Ricardo Scarmacia). Sergio seeks his fortune by collecting a brigade of cocaine-fueled escorts to sexually entertain Berlusconi. In the second half, we follow Berlusconi himself as, out of power, he is unable to climb back into power, he loses his wife and he is sexually humiliated by a 20-year-old aspiring actress. Sorrentino gets his licks in by making Berlusconi, finally, pathetic.

Loro stars Sorrentino’s frequent collaborator Toni Servillo, who is able to play the Berlusconi character as a figure powerful to get all he desires…and then not.

I had high expectations of Loro because I loved Sorrentino’s The Great Beauty and Youth. Sorrentino is a master of the eye candy and those movies are especially beautiful, but also tell stories compelingly. Ultimately, Loro is much more interesting visually than it is thematically.

Loro, which got a screening at the San Francisco international Film Festival, has just concluded a wisp of a theatrical release in the Bay Area. It can be streamed from Amazon, iTunes, Vudu, YouTube and Google Play.

Stream of the Week: THE GREAT BEAUTY – decadence, stunning imagery and the beauties of Rome itself

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As The Great Beauty (La grande belleza) begins, its protagonist Gep Gambardella is celebrating his 65th birthday in a feverishly hedonistic party. Gep authored a successful novel in his twenties, which has since allowed him the indulgent life of a celebrity journalist, bobbing from party to party among Rome’s shallow rich. Gep is having a helluva time, but now he reflects on the emptiness of his milieu and the superficial accomplishments of his past 40 years. As he alternates introspection and indulgence, we follow him through a series of strikingly beautiful Roman settings. (And, because Gep parties all night, we see lots of gorgeously still Roman dawns.)

The Great Beauty is foremost an extraordinarily beautiful art film. If you’ve been to Rome, you know that it is a generally chaotic city with unexpected islands of solitude. The Great Beauty captures this aspect of the Eternal City better than any other film I’ve seen. On one level, The Great Beauty is very successful Rome porn.

Writer-director Paolo Sorrentino also explores the moral vacuity of the very rich and the party life. It’s the Italy of Silvio Berlusconi, whom Sorrentino blames for enabling a national culture of escapism. These themes, along with the main character and the movie’s structure are of course nearly identical to Fellini’s great La Dolce Vita (1960), but The Great Beauty is more accessible, funnier and a bit more hopeful – and much more of a showcase for the cityscape of Rome. Sorrentino provides plenty of laughs, especially with a gourmet-obsessed cardinal and a cadaverous celebrity nun with a Mephistopheles-looking handler.

It’s hard to imagine an actor better suited to play Gep than Toni Servillo. Servillo perfectly captures both the happiness Gep takes in carnal pleasure and his self-criticism for giving his entire life to it. Servillo’s Gep is brazenly proud of his own cynicism, until we see his humanity breaking through at a funeral. Servillo is even magnificent in wearing Gep’s impressive collection of sports jackets.

There’s so much to The Great Beauty – stunning imagery, introspection, social criticism, sexual decadence, fine performances, humor and a Rome travelogue – each by itself worthwatching the film.  The Great Beauty won the Best Foreign Language Oscar and can be streamed from Amazon, iTunes, Vudu, YouTube and Google Play.

YOUTH: a glorious cinematic meditation on life

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Michael Caine in YOUTH
Michael Caine in YOUTH

Youth is filmmaker Paolo Sorrentino’s glorious cinematic meditation on life.  A resolutely retired composer (Michael Caine) is staying once again at a luxurious spa resort in the Swiss Alps – the kind of place where towels are folded into the figures of swans.  Also at the resort are his adult daughter and assistant (Rachel Weisz), an old friend who is a film director (Harvey Keitel),  a movie star (Paul Dano) and a host of other characters.

The composer meanders through his daily massages and medical check-ups, and there really isn’t what most of us would think of as a plot.   But stuff happens to each of the characters, and the composer and others reflect on their lives – the accomplishments, the disappointments, the betrayals, the intense experiences of love.  They contemplate what they remember and what they can’t remember.  Ultimately, they consider both life’s deepest meanings and life’s pointlessness.  All of this builds and kinda sneaks up on the audience.

Some stories may be best told in the form of novels or short stories or photography or ballet.  Sorrentino knows that his story – as was the one in his exquisite The Great Beauty – is best suited for cinema.  And Sorrentino takes full advantage of his medium.  Youth is a beautiful film to watch – with the spectacular alpine landscapes and the artsy interior shots (some very Felliniesque).  The music (as fitting a story about a composer) is entrancing, too; no one left my screening until the music for closing credits had ended and the house lights came back up.  There are several dream (and daydream) sequences which are close to genius.

There’s a lot of wry humor in Youth – a silent couple (who have some surprises ready for the audience), an obese South American (Roly Serrano) who resembles Diego Maradona, a forlorn young escort, the pop star Paloma Faith as a vulgar version of herself and a punctiliously insistent emissary from the Queen.  And then there’s Jane Fonda as an aging movie queen in grotesque makeup.

Caine, Keitel, Weisz and Dano each have wonderfully moving monologues.  I also very much enjoyed the mountaineering instructor  (Robert Seethaler) and the braces-wearing masseuse (Luna Mijovic).

Those who need their movies linear and tightly resolved might look elsewhere.  But Youth looks great, sounds great and is superbly acted.  If you settle in and let it envelop you, you won’t regret it.  I’m still thinking about Youth several days after seeing it.

The Great Beauty: decadence, stunning imagery and the beauties of Rome itself

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As The Great Beauty (La grande belleza) begins, its protagonist Gep Gambardella is celebrating his 65th birthday in a feverishly hedonistic party.  Gep authored a successful novel in his twenties, which has since allowed him the indulgent life of a celebrity journalist, bobbing from party to party among Rome’s shallow rich.  Gep is having a helluva time, but now he reflects on the emptiness of his milieu and the superficial accomplishments of his past 40 years.  As he alternates introspection and indulgence, we follow him through a series of strikingly beautiful Roman settings.  (And, because Gep  parties all night, we see lots of gorgeously still Roman dawns.)

The Great Beauty is foremost an extraordinarily beautiful art film. If you’ve been to Rome, you know that it is a generally chaotic city with unexpected islands of solitude.  The Great Beauty captures this aspect of the Eternal City better than any other film I’ve seen.  On one level, The Great Beauty is very successful Rome porn.

Writer-director Paolo Sorrentino also explores the moral vacuity of the very rich and the party life. It’s the Italy of Silvio Berlusconi, whom Sorrentino blames for enabling a national culture of escapism.  These themes, along with the main character and the movie’s structure are of course nearly identical to Fellini’s great La Dolce Vita (1960), but The Great Beauty is more accessible, funnier and a bit more hopeful – and much more of a showcase for the cityscape of Rome.  Sorrentino provides plenty of laughs, especially with a gourmet-obsessed cardinal and a cadaverous celebrity nun with a Mephistopheles-looking handler.

It’s hard to imagine an actor better suited to play Gep than Toni Servillo.  Servillo perfectly captures both the happiness Gep takes in carnal pleasure and his self-criticism for giving his entire life to it.  Servillo’s Gep is brazenly proud of his own cynicism, until we see his humanity breaking through at a funeral.  Servillo is even magnificent in wearing Gep’s impressive collection of sports jackets.

There’s so much to The Great Beauty – stunning imagery, introspection, social criticism, sexual decadence, fine performances, humor and a Rome travelogue – each by itself worth a visit to the theater.  The Great Beauty, which will be one of the favorites for the Best Foreign Language Oscar, may not be in theaters for very long – catch it while you can.