Chris Knipp Writing: Movies, Politics, Art

Forum locked This topic is locked, you cannot edit posts or make further replies.  [ 1 post ] 
Author Message
PostPosted: Sat May 01, 2004 7:18 pm 
Site Admin

Joined: Sat Mar 08, 2003 1:50 pm
Posts: 3983
Location: California/NYC
The sincerity of a reformed satirist

The Son's Room (La stanza del figlio), in a way, is really two stories.

The first, rather humorous one, more typical of director/writer/star Nanni Moretti’s previous work, concerns Giovanni Sermonti, a somewhat ineffectual Italian psychiatrist, played by Moretti himself. “Italian” and “psychiatrist” sound like a funny combination to start with. Giovanni adopts a passive Freudian persona that sets him up for criticism and even abuse by his egocentric patients. This gently satirical situation underlines the idleness of middleclass people enmeshed in their mostly self-created “problems.” The second story is the much sadder one of how the psychiatrist’s little family (Giovanni; Laura Morante as Paola, his wife; and Jasmine Trinca as Irene, their daughter) lose their beautiful young son and brother Andrea (Giuseppe Sanfelice, of Gabriele Muccino’s Come te nessuno mai) in a tragic accident and must come to terms with their irreparable loss. Both stories are sketched in briefly, the family idealized, the patients’ personalities reduced to types. What surprises is that Moretti’s movie achieves real emotional authenticity precisely because if its light Italian touch.

The two threads intertwine when Andrea’s sudden death leads Moretti’s character to realize his psychiatric work is pointless. He quits, at least temporarily, and some of his patients' reactions are not what we'd expect. We don’t know if he’ll go back or not. His wife falls apart too; husband and wife stop sleeping together; and their daughter’s so sad and angry she gets herself suspended from her star position on the high school basketball team and breaks up with her boyfriend. Giovanni is plagued by guilt because he drove off to see a far-flung patient in distress instead of jogging with Andrea as originally planned and thus preventing him from going diving with friends. He keeps having flashbacks to what might have been, blaming himself, the diving equipment, and the needy patient. A metaphor used by the priest at the funeral that's meant to be comforting enrages him.

Eventually a chance event turns things around. Paola opens a letter to Andrea from a girl called Arianna (Sofia Vigliar) who met him briefly in the summer and fell in love. Paola calls the girl and tells her what has happened. Arianna drops by with another boy waiting below who’s about to hitchhike to France with her. They take the two youths to the border. Somehow this trip leads the family to emerge from their grief and take a few timid, hopeful steps toward a return to living. (Arianna, as classically educated Italians know, is the modernized form of Ariadne, -- who helped Theseus escape the labyrinth and the Minotaur.)

What makes The Son’s Room emotionally convincing is the unmanipulative way Andrea’s death is handled. It’s completely sudden and unexpected. Nothing is done to pump up the tragedy. The boy had flaws. He has admitted he was involved in a theft at school – but it was only done as a prank. He lacks the will to win at tennis and “loses on purpose” in a game the family and Irene’s boyfriend are present to watch. But these minor flaws only underline what a nice, handsome, likeable young guy he is and help us to feel the survivors’ grief with them. Above all the actor playing Andrea simply seems happy. The style itself is the simplest: none of the sweeping camera pans, flowing music, or squealing "telefonini" of Gabriele Muccino or other contemporary Italian directors.

The family members grieve briefly and intensely. The scene where they take last looks and plant last kisses on Andrea’s body before the coffin is soldered and nailed shut is heart-wrenching and as sudden, mysterious and traumatic as his drowning. The parents and the daughter return to their lives but it’s too soon. They aren’t ready; they haven’t had enough time. Such a death doesn’t provide any preparation for the process of grieving. They’re all three left shattered and angry and they struggle through a period of bitterness and rebellion. It’s not denial, because they’ve responded immediately to the loss of Andrea with tears and sadness. But it’s obvious that Giovanni is obsessively trying to replay the events in his mind. The rebellion has to play itself out for some time, and only fades in the movie’s final sequence. We don’t learn what will happen in the future. We know only that the family has tentatively begun to live again.

What’s authentic and good about this little movie is that nothing is overdrawn: Italian restraint prevails. Everyone has been depicted as “normal,” typical, and presentable (qualities Italians are more comfortable with than Americans may be); and no one is glamorized or falsified. Nothing is done to tweak the tragedy. It’s not tricked out with foreshadowings or pumped up with excitement or enriched with unnecessary details or supporting actors. The utter simplicity of the production allows the boy’s death to speak for itself simply and powerfully.

As a psychiatrist Moretti seems a bit buffoonish (as he does in his earlier diaristic films). His patients are a tad overdrawn, particularly a sex fiend portrayed by Last Kiss star Stefano Accorsi. But they’d be tedious otherwise and would detract from the main action. One wonders why Andrea isn’t given a few more evident accomplishments aside from looking pretty and being sweet. But he appropriately shows the inarticulateness of teenage boys that often makes them enigmatic. The excellent Laura Morante does splendid work here as the grieving mother. Jasmine Trinca as the sister, like the others, is appealing and real.

This is Moretti’s most emotionally powerful movie and one of his most successful. He yields his former efforts to be conceptual and clever in favor of authenticity and universality and the gamble succeeds -- a triumph rewarded by the Golden Palm at Cannes, 2001.

As a person who myself lost a sibling in a tragic childhood accident, I find it hard to understand those who scoff at this movie, which feels sincere and true to me. Consider this prejudice or specialized knowledge as you like.

Summary in La repubblica.

Other Italian reviews; Cinefile.

©Chris Knipp. Blog:

Display posts from previous:  Sort by  
Forum locked This topic is locked, you cannot edit posts or make further replies.  [ 1 post ] 

All times are UTC - 8 hours

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 44 guests

You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot post attachments in this forum

Search for:
Jump to:  
Powered by phpBB® Forum Software © phpBB Group