There’s a simmering undercurrent of violence in 1970s Rome, a sense that the city is about to tear itself apart. In the rush to develop, deprived areas are torn down to make way for shiny new apartments and a rising tide of affluence. Corners of urban wilderness full of mystery and shrouded by rushes – forbidden playgrounds for the three children of Clara (Penélope Cruz) – disappear almost overnight.
That the city itself is grappling with a process of transition is no accident. The latest film from Emanuele Crialese (The Golden Door, Respiro) is in part a turbulent, semi-autobiographical coming-of-age story focused on Clara’s oldest child, 12-year-old Adri (Luana Giuliani), christened Adriana, but who prefers to go by the male name Andrea (it’s a personal story for Crialese, who revealed after the film’s premiere last year that he is a trans man). Conservative Roman society is not sympathetic towards a child who questions their gender identity; nor is it forgiving of women such as impulsive, wildly unhappy Clara who don’t quite toe the line.
Of the two main characters, Clara provides the tonal touchstone for the film. Like her, the picture spins off into moments of unpredictable fantasy – musical numbers inspired by television variety shows. Music – peppy Italian pop, schmaltzy ballads – is inventively employed throughout, but the use of colour and costume is particularly evocative. Clara’s defiant saffron yellow coat sets her apart on the streets of the city; at Catholic school, girls – and a miserable, mutinous Andrea – wear virginal white surplice-style tunics, while boys get to wear black. Andrea, the film suggests, is trying to claim a place in a world that still sees in black and white.
In cinemas and on Curzon Home Cinema
