Dreaming of an Italian getaway? Want to go to Naples in particular? Then you’ll want to catch Paolo Sorrentino’s gorgeous but enigmatic new film, Parthenope (pronounced Par-then-o-pay). This sweeping story about the city and its residents hits many of Sorrentino’s trademark beats. And while it can be puzzling at times, I found myself falling into its gentle rhythm.
Sorrentino uses the life of the title character as an allegory for the history of Naples. It touches on ancient mythology, its geography and its self-image. It also dives into its relationship with the rest of Italy, the Catholic Church, the film industry, art and football.
In mythology, Parthenope was a siren associated with the founding of Naples. So, in the film, the titular Parthenope is born in the water. It’s 1950 and the newborn’s family have made a lot of money in shipping under their patriarch known as Comandante (Alfonso Postiglione). They have a big house that looks across the Bay of Naples to the city. Flash forward 18 years, and Parthenope (played by Celeste Dalla Porta as a young woman) is ready to take on the world, but enjoying one last summer before starting at university. Willowy and beautiful, she attracts the attention of several young men including Sandrino (Dario Aita), her brother’s best friend. And some older ones, including real-life American writer John Cheever (Gary Oldman). But when her brother Raimondo (Daniele Rienzo) passes away, the summer idyll is over.
Parthenope decides to study anthropology under the tutelage of the spiky Professor Devoto Marotta (Silvio Orlando). She somewhat inexplicably excels at her studies. A flirtation with acting involving another real-life character, Flora Malva (Isabella Ferrari) is short-lived. Parthenope decides to devote herself wholeheartedly to anthropology.
Sorrentino’s approach is perhaps best described as elusive. Clearly the writer-director has a deep love for Naples. But unless you’re prepared to do a deep dive into the city’s history and culture, a lot of it isn’t going to make much sense. Sorrentino assumes a lot of knowledge in his audience; an assumption that’s unlikely to play here, thousands of kilometres from Naples. The film also doesn’t follow a clear narrative arc. It’s more a series of vignettes painted in broad strokes, which gives it a disjointed feel. The script gives the actors some very florid lines, and but their meaning is often obscure. And some of the scenes themselves are often enigmatic, bizarre or confronting (and in one controversial scene, all three).
But it looks beautiful, with Daria D’Antonio’s crisp cinematography picking out the glorious Neapolitan locations. Lele Marchitelli provides a lush score. The combination, together with some stunning costuming, sometimes feels like a perfume ad or a fashion shoot. But the film is at its best when it falls into a particular tempo, and you can just let it wash over you.
Celeste Dalla Porta, in her first leading role, embraces the character. The actor has clearly committed to the part, and delivers with assurance – even fervour. It doesn’t matter that it might seem ridiculous (which, frankly, happens quite a few times). Dalla Porta’s sway over the film is so all-encompassing that many of the other cast members become somewhat peripheral. I enjoyed Silvio Orlando’s performance as the blunt Marotta; and Daniele Rienzo as the fated Raimondo. But probably the stand-out among the supporting cast is Peppe Lanzetta (Spectre) as a morally dubious cardinal.
David Edwards
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David Edwards is the editor of The Blurb and a contributor on film and television