| Overall Grade: |
A- |
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| Story: |
A- |
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| Acting: |
A |
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| Direction: |
A |
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| Visuals: |
B+ |
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Six Hours of Superb Character-Driven Cinema
by Ed (movies profile)
Nov 1, 2006
3
of
3 people found this review helpful
The concept of an intimate, six-hour epic is an improbable one, but director Marco Tullio Giordana has pulled off quite a feat with this marathon, 366-minute film, which is divided into two three-hour parts over two discs. Originally a miniseries on Italian TV (which explains the structural similarities with old American miniseries like "Rich Man, Poor Man"), it's a masterful work with emotional pull, rich characterizations and plot nuances spanning close to forty years from 1966 to the present day. Ostensibly, the story revolves around the Carati brothers - self-righteous Matteo and optimistic Nicola, inseparable at the outset of the story as they attempt to leave Rome on a backpacking holiday in Norway. More importantly, what the movie does is humanize Italy's recent history on a more personal level. Giordana's most glorious accomplishment is how he keeps the story so emotionally involving over its lengthy duration.
The expansive, shrewdly observed script by Sandro Petraglia and Stefano Rulli covers major historical incidents such as the 1966 flooding of Florence, the ongoing terrorism instigated by the Red Brigades, revolutionary mental asylum reforms, and various World Cup championships. There is no bulky exposition to these events, but frankly, an in-depth knowledge of 20th century Italian history is not a prerequisite to enjoy the human drama coursing through the story. Each brother experiences his share of trials, and the beauty is that they remain life-sized, not epic in scale, which brings further resonance to the broader events affecting their lives. What triggers the drama of the plot is Giorgia, a near-catatonic victim of botched electroshock treatments, whom Matteo tries to reunite with her father. Unfortunately, this act of goodwill backfires, and the brothers decide to take different routes. In vivid brushstrokes, Matteo joins the army and later works for the police, first in Sicily and then back in Rome. Nicola, on the other hand, ends up going to Norway alone; comes back to Florence to help with the flood victims; marries Giulia, a conflicted protestor; raises a precocious daughter; and builds a career as a well-respected psychotherapist helping the mentally ill disenfranchised. The brothers' lives intertwine throughout to the point where one seems to be fulfilling the failed destiny of the other.
The cast is superb starting with the two stellar leads. Alessio Boni brings a charismatic blend of passionate intensity and veiled vulnerability as Matteo, illuminating an increasingly tortured soul as he further isolates himself from those closest to him. Bearing a striking resemblance to actor Rob Morrow, Luigi Lo Cascio plays the more open-hearted Nicola with dexterity, unafraid to reveal his character's inability to empathize with the deep anguish of those around him. Many of the supporting players are equally wonderful, with particular standouts being Andrea Tidona as the brothers' crafty father; Maya Sansa as the sympathetic photographer/librarian Mirella; Fabrizio Gifuni as dedicated lifelong friend Carlo; Lidia Vitale as the brothers' tough-minded sister Giovanna, who becomes an influential judge; and best of all, Adriana Asti as the brothers' put-upon mother. She has a particularly amazing scene of visceral power outside of Matteo's apartment. In pivotal roles, Jasmine Trinca does what she can as Giorgia, though I tend to think her character is designed more as a plot device to bring the brothers together; and with her excessive facial expressions, Sonia Bergamasco somewhat overplays the mercurial role of Giulia given her character's lightning-flash changes from lover to mother to revolutionary and back again.
One area that is a bit lacking is Roberto Forza's cinematography, which I find a bit washed out perhaps because the film was made for television. Perhaps futilely, I was hoping for more of a David Lean-like quality to the imagery. Interestingly, the soundtrack is filled with period-correct American pop at the beginning when the boys are young but moves to strictly Italian music as they become older. Thankfully there is little attempt to use make-up to age the actors over the decades other than some gray streaks in Nicola's hair. The almost final scene with Nicola and Mirella walking in the woods is among the most touching I have seen in a movie. This represents vital, full-blooded cinema worthy of comparison to Bertolucci and Ozu in terms of the human scale it showcases. The two-disc set has no extras given the epic length of the film. |
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