La Chimera

I'm a sucker for most things italian, especially it's cinema, I loved La Chimera. The story of Arthur, an Englishman inhabiting an Italian's universe, whose remarkable abilities have led him to a life with a group of tomb robbers going after Etruscan antiquities for sale on the black market. Beguiled by love, Arthur is tormented by the memory of his lost Beniamina, whose mother (Isabella Rossellini) serves as a matriarchal groundpost. His lone, sad male presence in an otherwise all female family, is delightfully contentious and catty. Italia, the 'student maid', plays the fool to survive and succeed against odds.

Like a troupe of players, the tomb hunters seem like a vagabond theatre troupe, reminiscent of the circus in La Strada, one of Fellini's greats.

Adventurously cutting between film stocks and formats, the direction and camera work are exceptional and fitting.

A wonderful tale of surprise and intrigue driven by a cast of characters that only Italian's could present. Lovely in it's life and vibrancy.

A rather scruffy looking Josh O'Connor is "Arthur" who has found a way to make a living in rural Italy where he uses his unique gift with a divining rod - well a big twig, really - to uncover ancient artefacts from deep beneath the surface. He's not averse to a bit of grave robbing either - for which he has recently been imprisoned, and now he and his cohorts sell their stuff to "Spartaco" (Alba Rohrwacher) and via a rather unique technique, too! What's clear is that "Arthur" is getting over something fairly monumental in his life, and we get a clue to that when he visits the rather doting but blissfully ignorant and elderly "Flora" (Isabella Rossellini) at her increasingly dilapidated mansion house where the furniture is destined for the furnace and her family all know the secret, but dare not speak it. He, himself, inhabits a shanty-town style shed abutting the old city wall, his once proud linen suit now grubby and filthy and he is rarely without a cigarette. As the plot unfolds - aided by an agreeably sparing amount of dialogue - we start to get a sense that "Arthur" is actually coming to his senses after something akin to a concussion. The pieces of his life are slowly coming together again as he and his pals make the discovery of a lifetime, only for... It's a slowly paced film, but that works well - as do the infrequent but quite punchy comedic elements of the drama. There can be a comparison drawn between the gradual unearthing of the long lost relics and with his own re-realisation but it's all delivered with a brightness that keeps it from becoming downbeat or depressing. Director Alice Rohrwacher offers us a personal story tempered with a bit of mythology and a fair degree of ill-defined humanity that is compellingly incomplete in many ways. I reckon it might merit a second watch, there's plenty of nuanced writing here.

Poetry is the first word that comes to mind when trying to describe that movie. Alice Rorhwacher depicts a world where past and present are interwoven. A forgotten rural Italy, haunted by the remnants of Antiquity. The movie is full of symbols, and the boundaries between past and present, life and death, reality and fantasy are constantly blurred.

The main character, Arthur, is marked by grief, and hides his pain among a band of gentle thieves. All around him, there is misery but also resilience, joy, survival. In this picaresque landscape, Arthur seems to be the only character inhabited by tragedy.

Rorhwacher has the power to evoke emotions that are hard to describe. I left the theater in a contemplative state and I've been thinking about the movie a lot since then. Only good movies can do that.

The enchanting allure of La chimera smoothly treads between myth and romance, where fantasy is no longer unimaginable but a transformative possibility found where the lines between dream and memory are often blurred by formal unpredictability.

Its inheritance of Italian Neorealism and Felliniesque carries within a history of emotion and style. The aesthetics aren't just a choice. They're a statement of timeless beauty. A beauty magnified by the story of Arthur, a looter involved in the black market of historical artifacts with a gift to sense where they are, that channels the grace of an irretrievable past. Josh O'Connor's contrast with the rest of the cast not only enhances the film's fascination with the dreamy yet earthy sublime but also adds elements of mystery and melancholy through the protagonist's barely hinted past.

Alice Rohrwacher's La chimera eventually develops a recognizable shape, but it doesn't sacrifice its artistry, and that's the beauty of it.

Arthur, the disheveled former archaeologist turned Etruscan tomb-finder, is a man on a quest. When we first meet him, he is dreaming on a train heading home after being released from prison. Once home, he soon falls in with his old gang of tombaroli (grave-robbers) and they're on the search for treasure in the earth. For the rest of the gang, treasure means loot from Etruscan tombs; Arthur seems to be searching for something else. We get clues to Arthur's search in recurring images of a young woman and her red thread first seen in the opening shots of the film. The woman, we soon learn, is Beniamina, the daughter of Flora and Arthur's beloved. Flora lives in a crumbling palazzo with Italia, her singing student, and a group of women who call Flora mother. Italia is being exploited as a servant by Flora, who believes she is tone-deaf, but Italia in turn is raising two children in the house unbeknownst to Flora. The film juxtaposes these two kinds of groups: the rival groups of tombaroli led by men and the communal groups led by women (Italia forms the second group in a disused railway station), which echoes the remark early in the film that Italy would be much less macho today if the Etruscans had beaten the Romans rather than the other way around.

The film is full of mythic and historical resonances. Arthur is a latter-day Orpheus searching for his Eurydice (the first musical cue is from Monteverdi's Orfeo), but without Orpheus's gift of music. The red thread recalls Ariadne and the labyrinth. Flights of birds (and ominous pigeons) follow Arthur. Italia's first language is Portuguese and her children are of many ethnicities. And so on. In the hands of a lesser director or screenwriter this hybrid creature of different parts (you might call it a chimera) could have been a mess, but here everything seems to cohere and to create a mythic world that resembles our own, but is at an angle to it. That everything clicks into place so precisely and beautifully in the final scene is a tribute to just how tightly this loose-seeming film is constructed. Rarely have the loose threads of a plot been gathered with as much skill or in a more satisfying way.

Many of the photographic tricks (different film stocks, different aspect ratios, scenes undercranked) sound gimmicky, but, except for the undercranking, most are there for people who notice and transparent to those who don't. The cast is uniformly excellent.

For all its playfulness and its conceits, this moving, elegiac film tells the story of a great love and is a great love story.