REVIEW: L’immensità

L’immensità translates to “the immensity” in Italian. This film is certainly immense – immense in the scope of its themes, in its emotional depth, and in its luscious score and cinematography. Thankfully, though, it is not immense in its runtime. I don’t know if I could have taken one more minute of heartbreak. 

The film is devastating from the get-go. We are introduced to a normal, Italian family. Penélope Cruz is dazzling in her role as Clara, mother to three beautiful children in 1970s Rome. The kids are doing what kids do: sneaking down into the sewers, playing games under the table at Christmas, and generally going where they’re not supposed to. The oldest, Adriana, played by Luana Giuliani, is especially poignant as a young girl coming of age. In the background is their father Felice, played by Vincenzo Amato, who looks fittingly swanky in tailored Italian suits and a flashy car. The furniture is mid-century modern, the coffee is strong, and the outdoors is lush. 

It’s the perfect nuclear family – until it’s not. We learn that Felice is an abusive husband, beating and raping his battered wife both under the cover of their bedroom and in front of their kids. Clara is a good mother, but she is buckling under the weight of her husband’s temper. Throughout the movie, she regresses into a child-like state, until Adriana takes on more of the parent role than her own mother. The three children struggle to survive as their two parents, their protectors, betray, neglect, and soon abandon them. To top it off, Adriana is struggling with gender dysphoria, but being transgender in a patriarchal, gender-segregated society is not an ok thing to be. The family’s dysfunction soon becomes the focal point of the movie. 

It’s a dark underbelly to a glitzy surface. A fight for survival, not a coming-of-age movie. Adri does what all kids do when faced with adversity in the home – get out of the house. He races through the reeds into the “bad side of town,” where he soon befriends a Romany girl named Sarah. Two outsiders, their friendship quickly turns romantic. They are at once two kids playing, two young adults exploring their sexuality, and two aliens looking for companionship in a dangerous world. 

We stay long enough to form an attachment to the characters, but we leave too soon to see their conclusion. It’s hard to envision anything but a downward spiral. Nobody is going to come to Clara’s rescue, nobody is going to tell Adri it’s ok to be themselves. This ultimately pessimistic message clouded the rich visuals of the movie, forcing me to even cover my eyes at certain scenes. It’s hard to watch such overt gender-based violence, especially when you know that despite the strides we have made since the 1970s, it is still pervasive. 

L’immensità is a beautiful movie. Just don’t ask me to watch it again.  

 

PREVIEW: L’immensità

The Italian Film Festival in Ann Arbor is an incredible way to become acquainted with Italian film, an underrepresented yet incredibly poignant field. It is a way for film students to venture out of American-made films, a way for Italian students to practice their language in a colloquial setting, and a way for anyone to experience beauty in a different language and culture. 

L’immensità by Emanuele Crialese is an emotional movie dissecting a failing relationship. Clara and Felice, an Italian couple in the 1970s, have fallen out of love, but are forced to stay in the relationship because of extenuating circumstances. As their children witness their parents’ failing marriage, viewers are treated to a spectacle of love, loss, and childhood woes. 

This film festival only comes once a year, so sign up while you can!

Where

  • L’immensità by Emanuele Crialese will play at Lorch Hall – Askwith Auditorium at 7:30 pm on Saturday, April 8th. 
  • Nevia by Nunzia de Stefano will play at Lorch Hall – Askwith Auditorium at 5:00 pm on Saturday, April 8th. 

Tickets are free, making this an accessible event for all students, faculty, or anyone else interested in watching beautiful Italian films. 

REVIEW: The Magic Groove Bus

I first watched Groove perform on my very first day in Ann Arbor. Tired, lost, and fresh off a plane from a small town in South Florida, I stumbled into Artscapade at the Umma, an evening of games, live performances, and crafts meant to introduce scared students to one of the University of Michigan’s artistic centers. Watching Groove perform through the thick crowd of people, I was awed by their incredible show. Having never played an instrument in my own childhood, I was amazed at how intricate, and yet how high-energy, the performance was. 

Flash forward two years, and I finally got to watch Groove again. One of Ann Arbor’s premier entertainment groups, Groove combines traditional instruments – drums, cellos – with non-traditional instruments – steel ladders, construction buckets – to create something truly special. At Friday night’s performance, “The Magic Groove Bus,” they blended together spectacular musical talent with hilarious comedy to wow the audience in a dizzying two-and-a-half hour performance. 

I don’t think there was any sort of cohesive theme for Friday night’s show, but Groove managed to weave together a bit about environmental destruction by evil corporations, a whole bit celebrating France, a bit titled “size doesn’t matter,” and so many more. Considering the amount of ideas compiled into one performance, it was actually incredible that they managed to fit it all in under three hours. However, the performance was so excellent that I could have stayed for the rest of the night. I don’t know how Groove managed to find a group of students all with such a unique stage presence, but the blending together of personalities made the show completely distinctive. Every time I thought the show was over, someone would start singing, or playing the cello, or doing acrobatics on stage, or pulling out a trumpet. There was a mind-boggling amount of talent on stage. 

At only $5 a ticket for students, Groove is an accessible performance for almost everyone. In fact, considering the quality of the show, they could have charged me $20, and I would have willingly forked it over. I now understand why Groove puts on only one show a semester: due to the length and complexity of the performance, I’m sure they needed countless months and hours to prepare. With an almost full audience at the Power center, I know I’m not alone in my opinion. The Magic Groove Bus was truly a sight to behold. 

REVIEW: Blue Velvet

* Image taken from Turner Classic Movies (TCM)

Last night’s late night showing of Blue Velvet at the State Theater felt like watching a sex scene with your parents. That is, a two hour sex scene in a world where sexual blackmail prevails, women are held captive to masochistic, drug-addled perverts, and a young boy discovers his sexuality in a Freudian psychosexual nightmare. I don’t know how we watch it. Even less how it was made. 

Blue Velvet is the strangest coming-of-age tale ever created. Released in 1986 by the infamous director David Lynch, Blue Velvet was initially rejected by several studios based on its aggressive, sexual, and, frankly, perverted content. However, despite these initial trepidations, the film went on to achieve true cult classic status, with Lynch earning an Oscar nomination for best director. I first watched Blue Velvet when I was 14 years old, and was immediately transfixed by the opening scene. A camera travels down a royal blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, coming to rest on a white picket fence covered with luscious red roses. A smiling firefighter, a dalmatian by his side, waves at the camera from a slow-moving fire truck. This is a land of serenity: children safely cross the road, a man waters his green lawn, and a woman sips a cup of tea while watching TV. 

But things are not as they seem. Suddenly, the man falls into the mud, clutching his neck. Something terrible has happened. The hose comes to rest at the man’s groin, obscenely shooting water into his dog’s mouth. As he lies prone on the ground, the camera travels down into the underbelly of the world. This is no longer a place of roses and tea. We dig into the ground, where carnivorous spiders burrow into the dirt and ants bite chunks out of stringy brown leaves. This is the real world – a place of secrets, confined underground in the Earth’s bowels. 

I don’t really know how Blue Velvet is supposed to make me feel. Its content is so erotic, so charged, it feels almost like David Lynch is abusing the actors. Isabella Rossellini plays Dorothy, a battered woman who is being blackmailed into sexual slavery by the sadistic Frank (Dennis Hopper). Dorothy starts up an equivalent sado-masochistic relationship with the clean-cut Jeffrey (Kyle MacLachlan), who is ashamed of his feelings toward her but can’t control his urges. The scenes this trio – almost a love triangle – share are some of the most pornographic I have ever seen. 

Blue Velvet is a 20th century masterpiece. I don’t know who decided to play it at the State Theater, but that person is one sick bastard. 

 

REVIEW: 2023 Oscar Nominated Live Action Short Films

**Photo taken from the Austin Chronicle

In the New York Times review of the ‘The 2023 Oscar Nominated Live Action Short Films’ screening, the author argues that “Fans of sticky sentiment will be delighted with this bundle of live-action shorts, only two of which deserve note.” 

Only two of which deserve note? I disagree. Sure – I think know which short films are not going to win the Oscar this year. But the fact that they lack the marketability to appeal to the Oscar committee does not make them any less concisely beautiful, any less adept at building tension, or any less able to intersect grief with joy. The 2023 Oscar Live Action nominees – Denmark’s “Ivalu,” Norway’s “Night Ride,” Italy and America’s “Le Pupille,” Luxembourg’s “The Red Suitcase,” and Ireland’s “An Irish Goodbye” – thrilled me. Short films, in my opinion, are an underrated genre, and are uniquely capable of weaving together many themes, identities, and cultures into a film screening the length of one movie. More than ever, leaving audiences exposed to so many ideas all at once is even more valuable than putting just one perspective on the table. 

This year’s live action nominees are a celebration of our differences. “Ivalu” sets the tone with a sober, horrifying depiction of childhood trauma and suicide set in the rugged, icy Greenland mountains. When her older sister goes missing, a young girl desperately follows a raven, a crowing black figure overhead, to search for her. Viewers receive a tour of all the places Pipaluk and Ivalu used to play together – places where, as we discover later in the film, they will never play. 

Continuing on the somber tone, “The Red Suitcase” builds suspense so expertly that I literally gripped the edges of my seat. We watch as a young Iranian woman terrifyingly evades the man she has been promised to as a child bride. In “Night Ride” a dwarf and transgender woman silently join forces to battle a bully. We go from thrill to despair to righteous indignation as the two most vulnerable people on a train get their revenge in what can only be called a dark comedy. “Ivalu,” “The Red Suitcase,” and “Night Ride” are masterful analyses of marginalized groups: they make the audience feel what they feel, see what they see, hurt like they hurt. 

“An Irish Goodbye” and “Le Pupille” take the same anguished themes and apply them to a lighter, more comedic setting. “An Irish Goodbye” sees two brothers, one with Down Syndrome, mourn their mother by completing every item on her bucket list, with a heartfelt twist at the end. In “Le Pupille,” my favorite of the five short films, young girls in an Italian orphanage hilariously navigate adult politics. While the adults are pursuing redemption in the afterlife, the girls are pursuing the only thing kids really care about: a slice of cake. 

I walked out of the theater feeling like I just watched a secret masterpiece. I highly recommend buying your tickets for ‘The 2023 Oscar Nominated Live Action Short Films’ screening before it’s too late. 

 

PREVIEW: 2023 Oscar Nominated Short Films

**Official logo taken directly from the Michigan Theater website

What: Showcases of all the 2023 Oscar-nominated short films in the live action category put on by the Michigan Theater. There are also showcases for the animation and documentary categories.

When: I am going tomorrow at 8:15 pm, but there are showtimes all throughout next week. The next three showings are:

  • Monday, February 20 at 7:30 pm
  • Tuesday, February 21st at 4:45 pm
  • Saturday February 25th at 6:45 pm

Tickets: $8.50 for students with a valid ID; Adults $10.50

The yearly tradition of showcasing Oscar nominated short films in animation, live action, and documentary is completely unique because viewers are treated to a compilation of the best short films of the year in a multitude of languages, cultures, themes, and art forms. In the live action category, short films like “Ivalu,” where a woman desperately searches for her missing sister in Greenland, “An Irish Goodbye,” where viewers are treated to a heartfelt depiction of brotherly affection following their mother’s death, and “The Red Suitcase,” where an Iranian teenager confronts tension and fear in a new world, are charming, entertaining, and eccentric. Short films are an incredible genre because they are more accessible to amateur filmmakers just getting their start, but can also concisely and beautifully express a message that would be bogged down in a larger film. I highly recommend viewers catch this once-a-year exhibition before it’s too late.