The
Great Beauty
is a visually stunning epic directed by Paulo Sorrentino, set in Berlusconi’s
Rome. It stars Toni Servillo as Jep Gambardella, a cynical journalist who once
wrote a famous novel. He spends his time partying amongst Italy’s rich and
powerful, from cardinals to poets to men who own keys to palaces (no, it’s
never explained). But one day a stranger informs Jep of the death of a woman he
once loved, and his halcyon decadence is jolted by introspective pondering.
Jep refers to the world’s ‘haggard, inconsistent
splashes of beauty’ in ‘the wretched squalor and miserable humanity’, and it
seems that a large number of those splashes bounced off the streets of Rome. Every
shot is a picture, a Mediterranean Barry
Lyndon. The characters’ fine tailoring is a suitable descendant to Casino’s: colour coordinated outfits of
dazzling jackets and well-creased silk. Sorrentino’s filming perfectly captures
the veneer of glamour through sartorial splendour and fine liquor which masks the
dark underbelly of extreme living, just as Scorsese managed in Goodfellas. For example, the parties are
so drunken, debauched and wild that it is impossible not to feel enticed, yet
we see that at such frequency they would be nauseating. Like a bucket of fried
chicken, one might say.
People refer to this film under the
shadow of La Dolce Vita, and rightly
so. World-weary journalist living among Rome’s idle rich, depressed with his
existence and wanting to write a literary work of importance, forever trapped
in the haze of cigarette smoke and decadence – this describes them both.
Several scenes are highly similar. The poetry, aesthetic beauty and philosophical
soul-searching owe much to the neo-realism of Italy’s past. It certainly owes
something to Rome: the characters live literally in the shadow of Rome’s
historical beauties (Jep’s apartment overlooks the Colosseum). In a way, their
late-night wanderings through the beauty spots are as meaningless and pathetic
as Marcello’s. There is also a chunk of The
Great Gatsby – is the questing playboy moral, immoral, or just complicated?
While little exists in the way of a
linear plot, the main narrative focus is Jep’s quest for ‘the great beauty’.
This is inspiration for his second novel that he never located in the whirl of
Roman high society. It is this profundity, this gravitas which Jep seeks, but
his hedonistic lifestyle of late nights and no mornings do not allow it. Again,
think of Marcello in La Dolce Vita.
It takes religious poverty and frequent mortality to allow his mind to focus on
the important aspects of living. Ultimately, it is this quest which proves the
most consistently interesting aspect.
At two hours twenty minutes there is
much which could, and should, be cut. This was its main drawback: not just the
effect on audiences used to 90 minutes, but also the endless scenes of minimal
importance convey a sense of arrogance on the part of the director. Moments
that may have seemed interesting to Sorrentino don’t necessarily equate to
viewers’ enjoyment. In fairness, the incessant nature does work well in
conjuring the monotony of Jep’s playboy existence, but this could be confined
to a handful of long scenes. Remove the bloated extra hour, as any Hitchcock,
Scorsese or Fellini would, and The Great
Beauty’s stunning positives will shine brighter.
The
Great Beauty
is at points entertaining, at others self-indulgent. Overall it is highly
interesting, but like a piece of modern art, not like Goldfinger.
