There is something oddly amiss with Sorrentino's semi-autobiographical love letter to Italy, his youth, and his film-making journey; however, no matter how hard you try, it's nearly impossible to pinpoint exactly what's gone awry. You'll be hard-pressed to levy the criticism of a distant emotional connection to the characters with the audience. Especially, when at first glance Sorrentino is doing everything right: the first half of this movie is brimming with life, family, laughter, and in the latter Sorrentino rips the rug out from underneath us, leaving the viewer to basque in a void of melancholy. But... the emotional distress never really comes or even lingers around to haunt you; instead, one is just left to admire a stunningly breathtaking portrait of Italy and the humanity of its occupants. So, with all the elements here why doesn't it work?
A case could be made that Sorrentino has structured this picture in the wrong way for an audience to understand and appreciate fully. Sorrentino, due to the personal nature of this story, has knowledge and information that we don't, hence, creating the possibility that he is viewing a very different picture than the audience. For example, the first scene in "The Hand of God" doesn't focus on our Sorrentino stand in Fabietto but instead, on his future muse Patrizia. The issue with this is it's never established why Patrizia is important to the story, to Fabietto, and as an extension to us as the audience until three-quarters through the film but, by then it's far too late, and the emotional impact has missed its chance to resonate. This issue is present again with Fabietto's parents, where their emotional connection and purpose to Fabietto's journey isn't revealed until far past a crucial event in the story. Additionally, a scene near the latter half of the movie, where Fabietto meets his inspirational director, flat out doesn't work. The scene is unsuccessful for a multitude of reasons but primarily the emotional weight along with the litany of realizations that Fabietto is finally understanding, we as an audience are not experiencing in tandem.
Even with these problems, Sorrentino has not made a bad movie, in fact, quite far from it. This is an enjoyable watch and the audience has three things to thank for that: 1, Sorrentino's subtle technical prowess (props to Daria D'Antonio the cinematographer for her sweeping vistas along with sound mixer Emanuele Cecere and Sound Editor Silvia Moraes for transporting the audience to Italy), 2, incredibly natural and lived-in performances by the ensemble of actors (Filippo Scotti as Fabietto gives a coming of age performance for the books to rival Saoirse Ronan in "Lady Bird" or Matt Damon in "Good Will Hunting" and Marlon Joubert as Marchino drips with physicality in a rare alluring way), 3, a script which although ordered wrong has humanity cracking through it in every line. Lastly, Sorrentino gives the audience a lot to chew on, even if it was delivered in a messy way, and the metaphor with the little monk alone is reason enough to check out Sorrentino's latest.
A case could be made that Sorrentino has structured this picture in the wrong way for an audience to understand and appreciate fully. Sorrentino, due to the personal nature of this story, has knowledge and information that we don't, hence, creating the possibility that he is viewing a very different picture than the audience. For example, the first scene in "The Hand of God" doesn't focus on our Sorrentino stand in Fabietto but instead, on his future muse Patrizia. The issue with this is it's never established why Patrizia is important to the story, to Fabietto, and as an extension to us as the audience until three-quarters through the film but, by then it's far too late, and the emotional impact has missed its chance to resonate. This issue is present again with Fabietto's parents, where their emotional connection and purpose to Fabietto's journey isn't revealed until far past a crucial event in the story. Additionally, a scene near the latter half of the movie, where Fabietto meets his inspirational director, flat out doesn't work. The scene is unsuccessful for a multitude of reasons but primarily the emotional weight along with the litany of realizations that Fabietto is finally understanding, we as an audience are not experiencing in tandem.
Even with these problems, Sorrentino has not made a bad movie, in fact, quite far from it. This is an enjoyable watch and the audience has three things to thank for that: 1, Sorrentino's subtle technical prowess (props to Daria D'Antonio the cinematographer for her sweeping vistas along with sound mixer Emanuele Cecere and Sound Editor Silvia Moraes for transporting the audience to Italy), 2, incredibly natural and lived-in performances by the ensemble of actors (Filippo Scotti as Fabietto gives a coming of age performance for the books to rival Saoirse Ronan in "Lady Bird" or Matt Damon in "Good Will Hunting" and Marlon Joubert as Marchino drips with physicality in a rare alluring way), 3, a script which although ordered wrong has humanity cracking through it in every line. Lastly, Sorrentino gives the audience a lot to chew on, even if it was delivered in a messy way, and the metaphor with the little monk alone is reason enough to check out Sorrentino's latest.