Italy

HEADS OR TAILS?: a spaghetti western goes off the rails

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Photo caption: John C. Reilly in HEADS OR TAILS? Courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Company.

Well, this was a disappointment. One of my personal favorite sub-genres is the Spaghetti Western. I really admired The Tale of King Crab, the first narrative by writer-directors Alessio Rigo de Righi and Matteo Zoppis, and I was delighted to see these guys riffing off Sergio Leone in a movie starring Nadia Tereszkiewicz, with her sexy magnetism and feral unpredictability, Allesandro Borghi of the acclaimed The Eight Mountains, and the always hilarious John C. Reilly. This looked really good.

Heads or Tails? begins with a bizarre, but historical event – Buffalo Bill Cody (John C. Reilly) putting on his Wild West Show, a live spectacle of cowboys and Indians, for an Italian audience circa 1900. Buffalo Bill lived through the most exciting phase of the Old West, having been a Pony Express rider, buffalo hunter and a scout in the Indian Wars. A remarkable showman and entrepreneur, he capitalized on his experiences by creating the Wild West Show, which entertained Easterners and Europeans with riding, roping, shooting, real life bison and an Indian “battle”. Indigenous cast members even included Sitting Bull. Of course, Cody himself knew that the show was filled with hokum, but he happily became rich by playing the role. The Wild West Show did tour Italy twice, once performing for the Pope.

A local aristocrat, a scummy wife-beater, has hosted Buffalo Bill’s performance, and afterwards, tries to further enrich himself with a crooked wager. Santino (Borghi), a dim but virile cattle worker, screws up the wager, and, the furious nobleman suspects that Santino has also been involved with his young wife Rosa (Tereszkiewicz). The aristocrat is killed, and Santino and Rosa go on the run.

At this point, Heads or Tails? leaves conventional Spaghetti Western territory, adds a heavy dose of surrealism, and becomes less coherent – and less watchable.

John C. Reilly, who captures Buffalo Bill’s performative bluster and worldly cynicism, is brilliant, but 80% of the story follows Rosa and Santino without Buffalo Bill.

I streamed Heads or Tails? on Amazon Prime, and most of the dialogue, except for Reilly’s, seemed dubbed in English. I found it off-putting, and didn’t understand it because Tereszkiewicz, who is French, speaks both Italian and English. Besides Amazon, you can also stream Heads or Tails? on AppleTV, YouTube and Fandango.

THE LAST ONE FOR THE ROAD: the party never ends

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Photo caption: Filippo Scotti (center front) in THE LAST ONE FOR THE ROAD. Courtesy of Music Box Films.

In the genial Italian comedy The Last One for the Road, we get to meet two cheerful reprobates, whose only ambition is for their next drink. On the downside of middle age, Carlobianchi (Sergio Romano) and Doriano (Pierpaolo Capovilla) employ their wily charms to cadge free drinks from a bachelorette party and even impersonate a team of architects expert in historical preservation. Bill Clinton said he represented the folks who “work hard, follow the rules and pay their taxes“; Carlobianchi and Dori are not those people.

Carlobianchi and Dori have a close friend returning home after decades abroad, and they resolve to meet him at the airport. Because they’ve never been to any airports in the province of Venice, this precipitates a meandering road trip to find the right one. While crashing a college graduation party, the two meet a straitlaced architecture grad student Giulio (Filippo Scotti), and take him along.

Giulio protests that he has an important academic presentation the next day, but Carlobianchi and Dori insist on dragging him along on their hazy mission. Giulio really does need to loosen up, he’s blowing it with the young woman he likes by being just too uptight. Will the two old slackers succeed in debauching him? The road trip evolves into a semi-voluntary kidnapping. 

Sergio Romano and Pierpaolo Capovilla in THE LAST ONE FOR THE ROAD. Courtesy of Music Box Films.

The lengths that Carlobiachi and Dori will go to get another drink are funny; so is Giulio’s insistence that he is disembarking from their tour, despite never getting out of their car and calling an Uber, which any grown ass adult would do to “escape”.

The Last Round for the Road is a fun comic road trip, but there’s more here than it seems. The film begins with a factory worker’s entire work life rewarded with a Rolex, followed by a glimpse of how little that luxury watch really means to him. The industry of Carlobianchi and Dori’s old buddy Genio in masterminding a heist is not rewarded. Giulio’s passion for architecture and his academic discipline will surely pay off in professional success, but he takes notice that Carlobianchi and Dori, as aimless and irresponsible as they are, are enjoying a stress-free life. The party never ends.

The Last One for the Road, the second feature for director and co-writer Francesco Sossai, opens tomorrow at the Laemmle Royal in Los Angeles and releases more widely next weekend.

LA GRAZIA: it’s time to get past his malaise

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Photo caption: Toni Servillo in LA GRAZIA. Courtesy of MUBI.

When we talk of “coming of age” movies, we usually mean those about kids or young adults experiencing life lessons for the first time. But, the more mature among us also face new realities as we age into new phases of our lives. That’s the case with Paolo Sorrentino’s lyrical La Grazia.

La Grazia is an insightful and empathetic portrait of a fictional president of Italy (Toni Servillo) in the final months of his term. He is a man of quiet and resolute competence, a jurist admired for guiding the country through six political crises. He is also staid and taciturn, a man of boring countenance (except for an his fondness of the most current pop music, including rap).

He is a lame duck and in a malaise from the loss of wife of fifty years. He’s just running out the clock. Fortunately, his daughter Dorotea (Anna Ferzeti), an impressive jurist in her own right, is nudging him through his daily duties. To her frustration, he is refusing to make his final three official decisions, about whether to sign euthanasia legislation and whether to grant two pardons.

He believes that his beloved wife had an affair forty years before, and now, instead of working, he’s stewing over who was her lover.

His lethargy contrasts with the vibrant, over-the-top baroque art covering every surface of the Quirinale Palazzo, the former papal palace now the headquarters of Italy’s President. The only sparks of life come from Anna’s prodding and from dinners with the art critic Coco, his friend from grade school and his wife’s bestie (played in a charismatic performance by Milvia Marigliano).

As doggedly as the president drags his feet, we know that he will need to find a catharsis and reset his life. As he figures things out, there is a remarkable scene involving, of all things, an astronaut shedding a zero gravity tear.

Toni Servillo is excellent here as a much more decent and much less flamboyant politician than the ones he played in Sorrentino’s Il Divo and Loro. La Grazia matches up well with his Youth, another contemplation of the end of a career. As usual, Sorrentino takes full advantage of the palace interiors and Roman exteriors; visually and otherwise, Sorrentino’s masterpiece remains The Great Beauty.

La Grazia is streaming on Amazon and AppleTV.

DICIANNOVE: coming of age – his way

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Manfredi Marini (right) in Giovanni Tortorici’s DICIANNOVE. Courtesy of Oscilloscope Laboratories and Frameline.

The title of the coming-of-age film Diciannove is Italian for nIneteen, the age of Leonardo (Manfredi Marini), who is leaving his Palermo home for the first time to begin college in London. Ever restless, he is eager to embark on his life journey, but doesn’t know where to head, and, being nineteen, he won’t listen to anyone else. In mere days, Leonardo pivots from business courses in London to the study of Italian literature at a university in Siena. He discovers a passion for old Italian writers – just not the ones his professor assigns.

Nineteen is an age that most of us sample experiences, but Leonardo is an introvert, sometimes bratty, who refuses to socialize, and we wonder if he will ever forge relationships or act on his sexual urges. Diciannove is that highly original coming-of-age film in which what even Leonardo chooses NOT to do is interesting, and we can’t predict what could make his spirit soar at the end.

Diciannove is the debut feature for writer-director Giovanni Tortorici, a protege of Luca Guadagnino, who produced the film. Tortorici and cinematographer Massimiliano Kuveiller (who has also worked with Guadagnino) maintain visual interest by throwing everything at the screen – disco scenes with an operatic score, slow motion, animated dreams and every kind of fancy cut. Nighttime scenes in a cold and hard London give way to lovingly beautiful shots of tranquil Siena.

Diciannove is the singular and imaginative calling card of a new auteur; Tortorici may be a visual show-off, but he has an uncommon gift for creating a realistic, but compelling and unpredictable character.

I screened Diciannove in June for Frameline. It’s now releasing into US arthouse theaters, including Laemmle’s Monica Film Center and the Glendale.

THE COMPLEX FORMS: what did he bargain for?

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David Allen White in Fabio D’Orta’s THE COMPLEX FORMS. Courtesy of Slamdance.

The visually striking atmospheric The Complex Forms is set in a centuries-old Italian villa, where Christian (David Allen White) and other down-on-their-luck middle-aged men sell their bodies for a period of days to be “possessed”. Possessed how? By who or by what? As the dread builds, Christian resolves to pry the answers from the secretive masters of the villa.

Director Fabio D’Orta unspools the story with remarkably crisp black-and-white cinematography, a brooding soundtrack and impeccable editing. In his astonishingly impressive filmmaking debut, D’Orta wrote, directed, shot and edited The Complex Form.

David Allen White is excellent as Christian, who begins resigned to endure whatever process that he has committed to, but becomes increasingly uneasy as his probing questions are deflected. So are Michael Venni as Christian’s talkative roommate Luh and Cesare Bonomelli as the impassive roommate simply called The Giant.

Like his countrymen Fellini and Leona, D’Orta has a gift for using faces to heighten interest and tell the story. He makes especially effective use of Bonomelli’s Mt. Rushmore-like countenance.

I screened The Complex Forms for its United States premiere at Slamdance. The Complex Forms was my favorite Slamdance film and won the festival’s Honorable Mention for Narrative Feature.  The Complex Forms is playing Cinequest on March 12 and 13.

THE COMPLEX FORMS: what did he bargain for?

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David Allen White in Fabio D’Orta’s THE COMPLEX FORMS. Courtesy of Slamdance.

The visually striking atmospheric The Complex Forms is set in a centuries-old Italian villa, where Christian (David Allen White) and other down-on-their-luck middle-aged men sell their bodies for a period of days to be “possessed”. Possessed how? By who or by what? As the dread builds, Christian resolves to pry the answers from the secretive masters of the villa.

Director Fabio D’Orta unspools the story with remarkably crisp black-and-white cinematography, a brooding soundtrack and impeccable editing. In his astonishingly impressive filmmaking debut, D’Orta wrote, directed, shot and edited The Complex Form.

David Allen White is excellent as Christian, who begins resigned to endure whatever process that he has committed to, but becomes increasingly uneasy as his probing questions are deflected. So are Michael Venni as Christian’s talkative roommate Luh and Cesare Bonomelli as the impassive roommate simply called The Giant.

Like his countrymen Fellini and Leona, D’Orta has a gift for using faces to heighten interest and tell the story. He makes especially effective use of Bonomelli’s Mt. Rushmore-like countenance.

Slamdance is hosting the United States premiere of The Complex Forms. The Complex Forms is the my favorite among the dozen or so films I screened in covering this year’s Slamdance. The Complex Forms won Slamdance’s Honorable Mention for Narrative Feature.

THE ACCIDENT: she’s too nice, until…

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Giulia Mazzarino in THE ACCIDENT. Courtesy of Slamdnce.

In The Accident (L’Incidente), Marcella (Giulia Mazzarino) is a meek, good-hearted young woman who in quick succession, loses her partner, custody of their daughter, her car and her job. Desperate for financial survival , she buys a tow truck, but she is utterly unsuited for the cutthroat Italian towing industry, where no good deed goes unpunished. Marcella is trapped into a downward spiral of an increasingly disadvantageous situations, until she happens on a logical, but outrageously amoral, solution.

Marcella is empathetic and kind, which are qualities we all should aspire to have. But she’s the type of person destined to always be pushed around, exploited and bullied by those more venal and ruthless. The Accident is acid social commentary on how society rewards selfishness, an allegory which could have been titled The Parable of Marcella.

The Accident is the first full-length narrative feature for documentarian Giuseppe Garau, who describes it as an “experimental film” because virtually the entire movie is shot from a camera in the front passenger seat of Marcella’s vehicle. That may be an experiment, but it’s not a gimmick because it drives our attention to Marcella’s incentives and disincentives.

Giulia Mazzarino is very good as Marcella. Anna Coppola is hilarious as Anna, the deliciously shameless owner of the towing company.

Slamdance hosted the North American premiere of The Accident where it won the Narrative Feature Grand Jury Prize.

THE EIGHT MOUNTAINS: two men, each finding himself

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Photo caption: Cristiano Sassella and Lupo Barbiero in THE EIGHT MOUNTAINS. Courtesy of Janus Films.

The sweeping Italian drama The Eight Mountains is a mesmerizing exploration of of male friendship and self-discovery. Pietro is the 11-year-old son of a successful engineer in bustling, industrial Turin. When his parents rent a summer apartment in a tiny village high in the Italian Alps, he meets the only local child, Bruno, also an 11-year-boy. The two become inseparable and forge the profound, lifelong bond that can only come from a friendship you are lucky enough to make in childhood.

Each summer, the two cavort together in the mountains. Pietro’s father (Filippo Timi), a force nature, revels in climbing the local mountains and brings the boys along, not afraid to challenge them with a treacherous cliff or a bottomless abyss.

In contrast to Pietro’s, Bruno ‘s family shows him neither warmth nor affection, and values him only for his manual labor. Pietro’s parents generously offer to take in the teenage Bruno so he can realize his potential, but Bruno’s ignorant and selfish father nixes the arrangement.

There’s a pause in their relationship as each man grows as a man. A family event draws Pietro (Luca Marinelli) and Bruno (Alessandro Borghi) back together as adults. Bruno is committed to living in his mountains. Pietro has been drifting, an undisciplined wannabe writer, but he, too, is drawn to the mountains where he spent the best days of his youth with Bruno. As Neil Young sang, “All my changes were there”. Both men are sons of Pietro’s father, one literally, and both chase the father’s dream in their individualistic ways.

The Eight Mountains is a remarkably genuine portrait of a masculine friendship, between boys and then between men. It captures the way such a friendship can resume instantly after a years-long pause. And it authentically depicts how male friends can communicate without verbalizing.

This story of two men’s individual growth and common friendship over 30 years, an intimate and tightly focused human story, is juxtaposed against an epic setting. The scenes of mountaineering in the Italian Alps are stunning enough, and then part of the story moves to the Nepali Himalayas.

Directors Felix van Groeningen and Charlotte Vandermeersch adapted the screenplay from a novel by Paolo Cognetti. I am getting very grumpy about movies that are too long, and I was skeptical of The Eight Mountains’ 2 1/2 hour duration (even vowing beforehand to walk out if it became a slog).  But the story really does take that long to unwind, and I’m glad that van Groeningen and Vandermeersch didn’t rush it.

The Eight Mountains is playing in select arthouse theaters. I’ll let you know when it becomes more widely accessible.

THE TALE OF KING CRAB: storytelling at its best

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TALE OF KING CRAB. Courtesy of Oscilloscope Films.

The Tale of King Crab, a story-telling masterpiece from Italy, begins with old Italian guys rehashing a local legend, and correcting each other on the details. That story concerns Luciano (Gabriele Silli), the town’s smartest and most interesting man – and also the local drunk. Luciano fixates on a grievance – the closing of a shortcut for shepherds. In spite of his own anti-social bent (and matted beard), Luciano falls into a romance. The grievance, the romance and his alcoholism combine to precipitate an accidental tragedy. We next see a sober and guilt-ridden Luciano searching for buried treasure at the barren tip of South America, an apparent priest among pirates.

TALE OF KING CRAB. Courtesy of Oscilloscope Films.

The Tale of King Crab is the first narrative feature for writer-directors Alessio Rigo de Righi and Matteo Zoppis and for cinematographer Simone D’Arcangelo. D’Arcangelo’s work, in vibrant Lazio and desolate Tierra del Fuego, is stunning. The Italian segments were filmed in northern Lazio near Lago di vico.

Dotted with mystical elements and filled with stories within stories, this is an operatic fable, exquisitely told. I screened The Tale of the King Crab for the Nashville Film Festival. It has opened theatrically, including this week only at Laemmle’s Monica Film Center and NoHo 7.

THE GRAND BOLERO: passion unlocked

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Photo caption: Lidia Vitale and Ludovica Mancini in Gabriele Fabbro’s THE GRAND BOLERO at Cinequest. Courtesy of Cinequest.

The Grand Bolero is set in winter 2020, early in COVID’s devastating assault on Northern Italy. Roxanne (Lidia Vitale), a middle-aged organ restorer, is locked down in a centuries-old church, along with her client Paolo (Marcelli Mariani). Lucia (Ludovica Mancini), a runaway young mute woman with no place else to shelter, arrives at the church. In an act of kindness, Paolo brings her into the church as an assistant to Roxanne. A salty curmudgeon, Roxanne cruelly resists, even when Palolo chides her, “you know what it’s like to be scared and alone.”

Indeed, Roxanne is a solitary person in a solitary profession, moving from church to church to repair the ancient organs.

But Lucia’s unexpected musical gift unlocks appreciation and then passion in the older woman. Passion evolves into obsession, propelling the story to an operatic finale.

Lidia Vitale and Ludovica Mancini in Gabriele Fabbro’s THE GRAND BOLERO at Cinequest. Courtesy of Cinequest.

The Grand Bolero is the most visually beautiful film that I’ve seen in some time. The interior scenes evoke the warmth of candlelight. The characters find relief from the lockdown in stroll through natural beauty characters find comfort in exteriors in the bright crispness of the northern Italian winter. It’s a remarkable first feature for director, co-writer and editor Gabriele Fabbro and his cinematographer Jessica La Malfa.

The all-absorbing power of organ music naturally complements a story of passion. Roxanne becomes transfixed as she watches Lucia’s bare shoulders heaving at the organ. The story climaxes as the dialogue is drowned out by an organ performance of Ravel’s Bolero.

The Grand Bolero is in competition for Best Narrative Feature at Cinequest and may be streamed through April 17 at Cinejoy.