Il Divo

The American journalist and satirist H.L Mencken once said “Opera in English is, in the main, just about as sensible as baseball in Italian.” The operatic tone of Il Divo and the frustratingly impenetrable world of Italian politics (both in being able to understand and to be prominent in it) create a chilling and disquieting atmosphere in what might have been turned into a political thriller or self-serving documentary by lesser film makers than Paolo Sorrentino.

Mencken’s quote also resonates with the film in that its subject matter and question – was three-time Italian Prime Minister Giulio Andreotti involved with the Mafia? – includes exploration of an American connection to the cosa nostra. However don’t be put off by thinking this film is filled with discussion of obscure (to an English audience) events and characters in the alleged massive scandal in the government.

I made the mistake of trying to follow the complex network of politicians, criminal groups and political development’s in Andreotti’s reign but this is not a film attempting to persuade or even inform the audience about the situation. This is a character based film in the guise of Citizen Kane or Downfall with its obsessive focus on a potent but flawed authority figure. The immovable lynchpin of Andreotti is the spider in this film’s confusing web.

Resembling Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s Truman Capote, the brilliant Toni Servillo creates a fascinating portrayal of Andreotti despite inhabiting a body that speaks seldomly and moves even less so. This gives the impression of a lazy boss who has no need to show fragrant emotion and motion. But Servillo is more akin an iguana on a immaculate branch, absolutely static but with the implication he could stick out a spiralling tongue and suck a fly inwards towards its doom.

This language is perhaps too hyperbolically elusive than necessary. However the underlying fact is that Andreotti is a very hard character to pin down with even the central question of film left dangerously open by the film’s conclusion. The oft-silent Andreotti breaks out in a searing monologue in the final section of movie in a diatribe resembling Waiting for Godot’s Lucky. Just as Lucky is a slave to Pozzo, Andreotti is in someway a slave to Italian politics, or is he the autocrat pulling all the strings? That the movie leaves these questions unanswered is as much down to a fear that overt criticism of the mafia could mean reprisals to Sorrentino as it is that Andreotti has been acquitted and convicted of involvement countless times, with seemingly no jail sentence forthcoming.

But the Sopranos-like death sequences and exuberant Romanic architecture give Andreotti of an emperor consumed by power, leaving him an empty husk of a man.

It has art direction and visual innovation to rival the most flamboyant movie and this coupled together with a wonderfully diverse soundtrack with everything from belting orchestras to whining guitars makes this film an intricate and intoxicating watch.

If you make the wise decision to see it, please approach it as a character piece on Andreotti and don’t struggle to swallow every nugget of information about the scandal and Italian politics itself. The hypnotic cavalcade of supporting characters, the masterly Servillo and the eye of Sorrentino ensure this is a memorable if slightly intangible motion picture.