Paolo Sorrentino
Il Divo

More than a film about Giulio Andreotti, it seems like a remake of "The Godfather". No harm in that, because it's still a great film (even superior to the contender, let's say, "Gomorrah"). Certainly not a masterpiece, as many have ranted (but in recent years, there has been a real hunt for masterpieces, even though the last masterpiece I recall is dated 2000, "Gostanza da Libbiano").

"Il Divo" is an Italian film, with Italian actors (except for Fanny Ardant), that speaks of Italian events, with Italian protagonists, but in execution, it resembles an American film. Sorrentino (a good director, but for heaven's sake, nothing more) is someone who, besides watching cinema, has also studied it, and must have been fascinated by Scorsese and De Palma, Cassavetes and Demme. He narrates the last years of the Andreotti-style, those of the VII government, immobility as a political concept, the ministerial cauldron, with Cirino Pomicino and Ciarrapico at the front, alliances with the Church, the beginning of Tangentopoli, the collusion with the mafia. And the private life, of a diva, the Divo Giulio (as Julius Caesar was nicknamed) made of affections and lies, falsehoods and solitude.

He tells many facts, often in an extremely chaotic manner, sometimes the rhythm culpably slows down, but it's as if Sorrentino cares little about the facts, because he focuses, sometimes obsessively, on gestures, faces, expressions of the characters on stage, a bit like Cassavetes in "Faces" (1968) and when he wants to increase tension, the close-ups become even more insistent, emulating the thriller form of "The Silence of the Lambs" (1991), where more than the action, it was the small movements of the protagonists' facial muscles that gave the film color. And he creates at least two sequences to memorize, capable of creating two opposing feelings in the viewer: indignation and goosebumps. Indignation for how the palace of power is represented in the aftermath of the Government's formation (parties, dances, drums marking the rhythm of a government born already dead, with Cirino Pomicino orchestrating the dances) and goosebumps for the beautiful sequence in which Andreotti holds his wife's hand while watching Renato Zero sing "I migliori anni della nostra vita" on TV, with an insistent panoramic, coincidentally, on Servillo/Andreotti's cheek.

The numerous sequences of murders or suicides are also well realized and conceived (very much in Scorsese's style, even if something vaguely recalls "The Untouchables" (1987) by De Palma), as well as the phrases most famously uttered by Andreotti are inserted quite aptly, such as "è meglio tirare a campare piuttosto che tirare le cuoia" or "mi considero un uomo di media intelligenza, ma in giro non vedo molti giganti".

The less convincing parts are the somewhat more superficial ones, somewhat more casual, like the missed election as President of the Republic with the choice, by Parliament, to opt for Oscar Luigi Scalfaro (more work could have been done here, after all, it's a crucial passage in Andreotti's "career"), or some long, too long, spoken sequences, like Eugenio Scalfari's interview with the Divo (with theories on the case) or the confession Andreotti makes to his friend Cossiga ("ho sempre amato Mary Gassman, la sorella di Vittorio") which feels more like a cinematic ploy, in the sense that, even if a truthful confession, it hardly fits into the film.

Two words on the cast. Excellent in some elements, above all, naturally, the absolute protagonist Toni Servillo (who portrays an Andreotti full of headaches cured with acupuncture), magnificent especially when halfway through the film he confesses, alone, to having committed actions unworthy of a man (an extraordinary monologue), an excellent Fanny Ardant, Piera Degli Esposti. Less convincing is the Cirino Pomicino of Carlo Buccirosso, an actor more suited to lighthearted roles, rather than more demanding cinematic genres.