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Paolo Sorrentino Parthenope bears the name of the siren of Greek mythology, sometimes considered to be the personification of Naples. The correct pronunciation is “THE-Nopi “, but even the pure and hard fans of Sorrentino could see the final syllable as a categorical” no “.
The Italian writer-director undeniably has a genius for sumptuously bewitching images, such as the flamboyant Update of Fellini of the Witness 2013 Great beautywho has experienced his title more than. But despite all its brilliance, Sorrentino is an erratic and indulgent filmmaker, dangerously subject to the handled auto-parody; And its last making is a chic and sumptuous bore. It takes place, mainly in the 1970s, in Naples, where the namesake of the last days of the siren (Celeste Dalla Porta) was born to rich and exquisite parents. Growing up, it is considered exceptional for its magnetism – even in a city where countless beautiful women are seen floating in the streets in slow motion, which makes young men distorted in dying worship, of the same Slo -Mo.
Men fall helplessly for parthenope, including their own brother. But it is mostly unavailable and amused by everything, firing forever knowing smiles on the camera. Well, could she be satisfied with herself, because people tell her constantly that she is brilliant and full of mind-not that there is something in her dialogue to corroborate this, despite the strange lost in the translation preview (“Do you not find that desire is a mystery and sex is its funeral?”). She is also supposed to have a gifted anthropologist, although the only university research that she seems to be involved in being drained in narrow episcopal jewelry and unleashing with a very carnal cardinal.
Sorrentino is a notorious devotee of feminine beauty, in a way not rebuilt in the mustache-twirling. At one point, a helpless admirer sniffs the bikini thrown from Parthenope to rapture, which indeed does what Sorrentino does in cinematographic terms; He obviously hurt for his heroine – and his star. When he gives us a close -up of cigarette smoke which drifts on his naked foot, it is the only true moment of erotic invention of the film.
Narratively, Parthenope is a sprawling mess of digressions out of the wall, like the sudden appearance of a monstrous diva, Sophia Loren-Esque (Luisa Ranieri); And a tourist detour through the dark back-to-go backwater from the city, only used to highlight the shine of the Condé traveler. Gary Oldman briefly presents himself as the American writer John Cheever, giving off lassitude stretched while he throws Jaded good words In an exaggerated and English accent (“Have you noticed how young people still shamelessly opt for despair?”).
Dalla carried excellent certainly to be an enigmatic radiant; But she is not the most distant lucky to create a character, because the parthenope of Sorrentino is only a shimmering shot of the eternal female. All the brands of the director are there: languid melancholy music; The usual imaginary mixture of the magnificent, grotesque and clumsy; Magnificent cinematography (Daria d'Antonio), especially in marine landscapes; And fabulous production values, including the costumes of Anthony Vaccarello de Saint Laurent (also producer here). The result is a backtracking the exalted but hollow art house in the euro in mild pornography of the 1970s – a luxurious kitsch which could just as well have been called Emmanuelle becomes mystical.
★★ ☆ From
In British cinemas from May 2
