DIRECTOR: NAMI MORETTI
CINEMATOGRAPHY: GIUSEPPE LANCI
MUSIC: Nicola Piovani, with Keith Jarrett, Khaled, and Kidjo.
CAST: Nami Moretti, Renato Carpentieri, Antonio Neiweiller, Claudio Della Seta, Lorenzo Alessandri, Moni Ovadia, Raffaelle Lebboroni
WRITTEN BY: Nami Moretti
This is a personal film, by what appears to be a newcomer. It has the freedom of a newcomer who wants to prove something to an audience. And the only thing I would like to say, is that the best parts of this film will never be seen again, I bet you.
The best parts are not the occasional gags, and clever bits here and there which are a trademark in the Italian cinema. They are the slow parts, when Nami undertakes of a visual excursion with various music to highlight it, from Keith Jarrett to a few others. When the film "story" starts, the music ends per se, and the film, although it is becoming a serious poignant case, has lost what may be the very charm which first attracted us.
The innocent enough film, starts with Nami riding his small scooter through the streets of Rome, looking at various sights. He claims that he is looking around for film sights, in case he meets anyone who does not care for his intrusion. And on occasion he is so entranced by his thinking process that he will ask anyone around him a question or two and suffer the dignity of the consequences.
In the process of working on writing the script, he travels around Italy, and eventually has to return home because a malady has taken over him. He has some symptoms that many doctors are a bit confounded and can not decipher. He runs the gamut of doctors from quack to new age, to Dr. Feelgoods. And the lyrical part of the film is over, and we wonder what the outcome will be.
The film is nice, if not slow for American audiences, and it has its nice moments, but it isn't exactly the most alive of films when it comes to action. It does manage to be interesting, but never great.
Nami, also in the leading role, comes off good, specially if it is a personal story. If this is not a true story, and indications are that it is, this is a clever way to write something. But more often than not, auteurs, tend to write what they feel and see, which has been a well documented Italian film style for years.
The question is if the film is odd, and surreal enough as the Fellini's, or as personal as the Antonioni's or as unusual as the Pasolini's and so on. Well, this is a beginner by comparison, but it does show some promise.
Date: November 1995
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