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Rating: One of the worst movies I've seen in recent times, the typical thing I expect to catch when my grandma calls from the kitchen saying, “Hey, come here, they're showing a program about Battiato on Rai”; let's be clear, I don't have any grudge against Rai: in fact, I have a vague fondness for these channels, with their news, documentaries featuring ancient centenarians, and increasingly awkward quiz shows. But when some joker had the idea of paying tribute to such a great genius as Battiato with such a “grand” work, ohi, ohi, that's trouble.
Let's start from the premise that this film is, as we say in my neck of the woods, for posers. The soundtrack explores almost exclusively "La voce del padrone," leaving everything else behind. The singer-songwriter's early career is rendered caricatured, with hippie meditations, idiot outfits, a mentality that paints Battiato as a misunderstood madman, and a musical component reduced to simplistic, superficial electronic experimentation; every contact with the great music of the era, and specifically the prog scene (I think it’s fair to use that term), is basically ignored: from one scene to the next, Battiato released four albums and that’s it. The "commercial" transition is pretty much just him going, "Uhh I want money!" The artistic phase with Sgalambro is completely ignored; the long process of the cover albums is completely ignored. I mean, it's not a movie about Battiato, it's a movie that randomly gathers scraps of Battiato's life and tells them—badly.
The relationship with his mother is told in a disjointed way, with no rhyme or reason. Quoting the Bennato-fan friend who went to see the movie with me: "the moral seems to be viva la mamma."
The musical aspect is explored in a naïve way, as if the experiments are comparable to a child playing with a toy guitar. The greatness of how Battiato managed to be accessible without being obvious is not rendered at all (there's just a passing reference to his deep lyrics). "Patriots" is dismissed as a "commercial failure." Too bad that in a movie about Battiato, I would have expected the artistic value of the work to be highlighted too.
In other words, then, Battiato's personality is explored clumsily and everything goes back to that. The "morbid" relationship with his Sicilian roots tramples the modern and vibrant mentality of Milan in the years of counterculture, while a junkie-like character flattens the nonchalant sarcasm that made Battiato legendary.
The screenplay doesn't do justice to the key moments of the artist’s life, nor does it celebrate the great musicians he surrounded himself with. The only positive aspects are: a few funny lines, some pretty good acting, and the fact that there are a few Battiato songs in the soundtrack, which is always nice. Because of this, if you’re a super Battiato fan (like me), have absolutely nothing better to do all day and can afford to waste two hours (like me, sometimes), and are satisfied with a random joke here and there (not like me), well, you could go see the movie.
But to be honest, the best part of going to see this movie was the maxi popcorn.
"Sul ponte sventola bandiera bianca." Score: 44/100.
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