Leonardo Di Costanzo
Elisa

This film by Leonardo Di Costanzo is a good one; I had already appreciated his “Terraferma” (with Servillo and Orlando). The setting is once again that of a prison, but while in “Terraferma” it mainly dealt with the relationship between inmates and guards in an old-fashioned prison, here in “Elisa” we find ourselves in an almost idyllic place: a fenced forest in the Swiss mountains, featuring small independent wooden houses, each occupied by only two inmates—a structure specifically created with the primary aim of rehabilitation and redemption for those who have committed serious crimes.

The film is inspired by true events (as an opening caption reminds us), but in the end it’s little more than a pretext to talk instead about guilt, remorse, the possibility of recovery, and also, thanks to an essential cameo by Valeria Golino, about respect for victims and their families.

The role of the protagonist is portrayed by an excellent and utterly convincing Barbara Ronchi. The film rests almost entirely on her shoulders—or rather, on her expressive eyes and glances—supported by the French criminologist with whom she has repeated conversations, played by the always excellent Roschdy Zem.

The rest of the cast also deliver strong performances, especially the character of her father, tender and movingly played by Diego Ribon, who never abandons his daughter despite the horrific crime she committed (she has been in prison for ten years for killing her sister and then setting her on fire). Di Costanzo merits praise for never taking a clear stand: he digs into the facts, the memories, reconstructing what happened above all in order to understand, because without an explanation, no real progress can be made—and it is not certain, not only that this can be done, but also whether it is ethically right to do so.

In the end, the film mostly raises some very specific questions, but the answers are never unambiguous and it leaves it to the viewer to process them for themselves. The director's focus is clearly on human relationships within a universe—the prison system—where the logic is different from the rest of society. His exploration, after “Terraferma,” seems to continue, considering different aspects of a world in which it is as relevant (and commendable) as ever to maintain keen interest.