Stefano Sollima
Suburra

[Contains spoilers]

Sollima does not disappoint, but he doesn't manage to produce a full masterpiece either. Certainly, we need more Italian films that are so well made. Suburra benefits from a brilliantly written script along with the book's authors, impeccable actors wisely chosen, a lively direction, and many other merits. But not everything has been polished to perfection.

The diegetic structure is one of the most positive notes: a clockwork mechanism that works with clear precision, aligning causes and effects with great taste for logical connections. Such a clean screenplay highlights the macroscopic themes of the scenario in question, as the viewer has no trouble following the story, which is often easily anticipated. Sollima never tries to astonish with breathtaking plot twists, instead he captivates with his solid coherence, which still knows how to unravel emotionally intense moments.

The cast is magnificent for two reasons, actually three. There are not very well-known actors who perfectly embody the characters assigned to them, like the very talented Alessandro Borghi as Numero 8: compare this character with the one he plays in Non essere cattivo and you will understand his skill. Then there are more established actors who do not disappoint: Elio Germano and Favino are simply impeccable, deeply immersed in their roles. And finally, the risky actors, like Amendola in the role of Samurai: a bet won for Claudio’s ability to portray a boss who also acts as a guarantor in various political relationships. Sollima carefully chooses the faces and sets the gypsy Manfredi Anacleti against Samurai. Adamo Dionisi’s big face well represents the value-less criminal, driven by an insatiable greed. Samurai is calm, committing crimes only when strictly necessary; Manfredi is a rabid dog, like the one that will eventually maul him. Two great bets won by Sollima.

We then connect to the system of characters, beyond the actors' interpretations: it’s deep and complete. An entire gallery of characters, more or less evil, is depicted without exaggeration. It doesn't focus too much on politics, nor too much on the violence of the gangsters. The two halves of the Roman system coexist in perfect balance, with their numerous ties holding them, and consequently, the various main characters appear with the same importance in the sequences. No single protagonist truly emerges, nor does it ever fall into overly stylized depictions: even the young Spadino is convincing despite appearing for just a few minutes. Actors and script equally contribute to the final outcome.

The direction is lively, remarkably aesthetic for an Italian film. The more emphasized sequences feature very loud music: the choice itself can work, to stylize the moments and give them a paradigmatic value, but the choice of musical genres is questionable. I would have preferred harsher and more claustrophobic music. But the real shortcoming from a directorial point of view is the lack of ability to create visually memorable violent sequences: the shootings are few, which is good, but there is a lack of strength in how they are depicted. Just compare them with those in Gomorra – La serie to realize that Sollima overlooked this aspect of the film a bit. The sequence in the wellness center is good, even though it owes too much to Garrone's Gomorra, but for example, the supermarket shooting is quite unimpressive.

Throughout the film, the realistic and the novelistic dimensions coexist with admirable balance: we are not in the realm of Anime nere, nor do we touch on more stylized gangster films. Sollima's is a middle path, maintaining a strong link with reality (consider the dialect, the gray settings), yet channeling it into a weave that also entices viewers looking for entertainment and classic narrative patterns. When Elio Germano is punched and left bleeding on the street, it seems that the ending of Suburra remains consistent with Sollima's signature, but in the last minutes, a couple of too evident concessions appear, two appeasements put there not to disappoint the less cultured audience. The weak and cowardly Elio Germano beating the gypsy boss with a stick and putting him in the dog cage, and, slightly less forced, Numero 8’s girlfriend showing up outside Samurai's house and eliminating him. The first is not believable, the second is, but it means closing with a message of small fish exacting revenge against leviathans like Samurai. Not quite a disenchanted vision.

Finally, a couple of details: I felt the day-by-day breakdown from 5th to 12th November 2011 and the storyline dedicated to Vatican affairs to be superfluous. Even the description as "Apocalypse" of the day of reckoning is excessive.