Directed By Paolo Sorrentino

Starring – Filippo Scotti, Toni Servillo, Teresa Saponangelo

The Plot – The story of a boy, Fabietto Schisa (Scotti), in the tumultuous Naples of the 1980s. “The Hand of God” is a story full of unexpected joys, such as the arrival of football legend Diego Maradona, and an equally unexpected tragedy. Fate plays its part, joy and tragedy intertwine, and Fabietto’s future is set in motion. Sorrentino returns to his hometown to tell his most personal story, a tale of fate and family, sports and cinema, love and loss.

Rated R for sexual content, adult language, some graphic nudity and brief drug use

The Hand of God | Official Trailer | Netflix – YouTube

POSITIVES

Sorrentino’s eye for invigorating aesthetics has earned him a prestigious career that already has supplanted him one Oscar, and here feels favored to repeat history, but this time with the balance of the organic aspects of storytelling that provide a rich substance to the visual stimulation. Elements like realistic characterization coming richly at the hands of gratifying experiences give way to vibrantly accessible personalities, especially in the realm of Fabietto, who stands at the center of our coming-of-age narrative, and evidently feels like a biographical manifestation from the knowledge of Sorrentino himself that he continuously crafts into the character. Such psychologies and nuances in the dialogue, as well as the introspectiveness of the vantage point, certifies these engagements with a nourishment of authenticity that helps transcend it from the typical screen captivity, all in favor of an experience that doesn’t always cater to the three-act structure or conventional structure that audiences have expected in formulaic returns. The performances here are all exceptional, but particularly the work of Scotti as Fabietto, who combines empathy and immaturity towards fleshing out one of the more discernable teenage depictions ever put to film, as well as Saponagelo, who as Fabietto’s prankster Mother conjures a warmth and emotional exuberance that never suppresses the volcanic activity from within towards those she loves most. As expected, the cinematography here is gorgeous, particularly in the surveillance style movements of the lens, which documents the breathtaking scenery and tonal impulses with a lingering focus that plays all the more effectively in the digesting of every sequence. This aspect comes in handy tremendously during scenes of humor, where the camera will initially focus on a lingering reactionary shot between the characters, before the pay-off in the next frame. This builds the tension simultaneously with the eagerness of the big reveal, crafting mystery as a means of release that only the ensemble is privy towards, and we the audience remain imbedded in, until the visual gag has surfaced. The lighting also prescribes a transfixing elegance for such aspects, especially during scenes in darker rooms, where the shadows work tremendously well towards drawing us into the condensed emotions and increasing tensions of every interaction. Finally, while I was firmly invested in the evolving outline of the narrative throughout the film, it was the third act that was most endearing to me, especially in Fabietto’s conversation with an inspiring director, which not only feels like the first gratifying insight towards a bruised and battered psyche seeking clarity in his art, but also the full circle moment for Sorrentino, serving as the culmination of his career that took its first pivotal step forward with such a life-altering exchange.

NEGATIVES

However, even though Sorrentino seems to be on top of his game with one of the more consistent efforts of his twenty-year career as a visual storyteller, it’s the backlash of burdening self-indulgence that rears its ugly head in the engagement of his audience and pads the film about twenty minutes longer than it has any right to be. Such aspects pertain to a subplot involving Fabietto’s aunt trying to get pregnant, as well as the unnecessary sports angle, which never evolves into anything substantial for the rest of the narrative. These aspects are fine in passing, but to have entire sequences dedicated to them is a bit halting towards the momentum of the film, especially since Fabietto’s own experiences soak up an overwhelming majority of the accessible narrative. Beyond this, the editing is a bit strange in time, creating pocketed instances of unexplored motivations within the characters that feel sudden, considering they come out of nowhere. Such an example pertains to Fabietto’s desire to leave for Rome in search of his dream, only moments after the single biggest loss of his life. The reasoning is there, but it’s never communicated in a way that the audience can coherently interpret, feeling like a spontaneous instance of relief, instead of the life-altering trip that saved his life. Last but not least, while I appreciated the ambiguity of the score from composer Lele Marchitelli, which kept the impulses of the sharp tonal shifts free from predictability, there’s an overwhelming blandness in execution that hindered in presenting something poetically profound when held simultaneously with the scope in scale of the Naples metropolitan scenery. This is especially tragic for Italian cinema, which often evokes these warmly passionate instrumentals that audibly entrance within the air of the culture, but here lacks the diversity to enhance their appeal.

OVERALL

In “The Hand of God”, Sorrentino falls into the same derivative traps that plague some of his best films, but the beguiling, astutely organic sentiment of his origins bleeds more than an endearing indulgence into the people and places that nurtured his unique inspiration, offering a corresponding coming-of-age narrative that speaks volumes about the spontaneity of life, but also resiliency of the human condition.

My Grade: 7/10 or B