Roberto Andò
La Stranezza

La Stranezza is a gem.

Draped in classicism, perfectly set in the atmosphere of a bygone era, a hundred years ago.

Luigi Pirandello is portrayed by Tony Servillo, who delivers a performance of great value. His is a measured, tormented, and relentless Pirandello, ironic and disturbed by his thoughts, his worries, his six (or maybe more) characters that constantly seek him out… Luigi, or maybe they, play hide and seek and he, at the same time, evades them and gives them audience on Sunday mornings and in sleepless nights he thinks of them, shapes them, melds them, and transfigures them…

From the notes on Wikipedia, the opening.

1920. Luigi Pirandello returns to Sicily for his friend Giovanni Verga's birthday; arriving in his native Girgenti, he discovers that his elderly nurse Maria Stella has just died. The author decides to organize a lavish funeral for her, hiring Sebastiano (“Bastiano”) Vella and Onofrio (“Nofrio”) Principato, two questionable undertakers. Not recognizing him, the two reveal to him that they have embarked on the venture of staging an amateur theater show with a ramshackle village troupe…

Sebastiano and Onofrio are played by Ficarra and Picone, and it is at least “disorienting” in a good sense to note how little (at least to me) this comedic duo makes me laugh, amid sneaky news and weak gags, and how outstandingly good (astonishingly good) they are at depicting these two “characters” in this splendid film.

A “classic” film, as we were saying, with an elegant, measured, if I may say “passionate” direction. Also notable is the cinematography by Maurizio Calvesi, who has collaborated multiple times in the past with director Roberto Andò and with Claudio Caligari. And what about the soundtrack, also noteworthy, by the self-taught musician Michele Braga and Emanuele Bossi.

To complete the picture, an impeccable set design and flawless ensemble acting, barring some excesses or blemishes that are nonetheless permitted and “intended” in such a “Pirandellian” context.

All of this, perfectly balanced and harmonious, in the name of great rigor and seriousness. The deserved result is that of a great film.

A measured film, therefore, and in its own way “humble” in its desire to tackle a subject (the Pirandello-thought) so daunting, tangled, cerebral, with such a “respectful” approach…

And yet (incredibly) somehow, it succeeds.

La Stranezza is a film that flows serenely and slowly builds until it accelerates and veers off course in the disorienting second part, where, in trying to reconnect the threads, it ends (intentionally) scattering them in one, none, one hundred thousand directions.

Go and see it.