Il papà di Giovanna

Giovanna's Father is another drama set in Pupi Avati's native Bologna during World War II. Once again, it centers on a dysfunctional family. But whereas The Second Wedding Night was unable to find any depth beyond its three uneven central performances, Avati's latest has a beating heart, and as the title suggests, that heart lies in Silvio Orlando's moving portrayal of a loving father, an effort for which he received the Best Actor award at the Venice Film Festival.

Orlando's character, Michele Casali, is a high school teacher, respected by his students and coworkers, loved by his wife Delia (Francesca Neri) and helped financially by his best friend, police inspector Emilio Ghia (Ezio Greggio). The only problem is his daughter Giovanna (Alba Rohrwacher), a sweet but troubled girl who has a peculiar connection with the surrounding reality. It doesn't help that Michele has always told her she is better than anyone else and that there's nothing wrong with her, so when he asks (read: bribes) one of his students to take Giovanna out on a date, she thinks the poor guy really has feelings for her. The situation evolves badly and quickly leads to murder and Giovanna being sentenced to confinement in a mental institution. As this takes place, Michele's whole universe falls apart, but he never abandons his daughter. In fact, he's the only one who keeps visiting her regularly, while everyone else is looking for a way to survive with the conflict reaching its final stages.

It is actually that context which constitutes the only real flaw of Giovanna's Father: the period is recreated with great care and the viewer gets a sense of how different the quality of life was back then, that's undeniable, and it's obvious Avati chose that specific time-frame to make the situation more poignant (and he succeeds; more on that later). The downside is that when he actually has to focus on the strictly historical aspect of the matter, i.e. the downfall of Fascism, it all feels quite rushed and, inevitably, a bit stereotyped (long story short: a few people we had come to care for face execution). Then again, this was present in The Second Wedding Night and The Heart is Elsewhere as well: Avati has always been more interested in the characters (with varying results) than the context.

Thankfully, and therein lies the film's saving grace, the father-daughter bond that constitutes the movie's emotional heart is constructed with real care, so that the plot's developments never once fall into the cliché trap. It is a universal story, that of a parent's unconditioned love for his child, and it is given extra power by a committed, well chosen cast. Rohrwacher, who is quickly becoming the new Italian talent to watch, nails Giovanna's troubled psyche without resorting to any "cheap" acting tricks (in other words, she doesn't do a Jack Nicholson just for the hell of it). As her estranged mother, Neri gives a nuanced, flesh-and- blood performance that makes her believable even in those delicate moments a less talented actress would have ruined, and Greggio, whose dramatic talent was heavily doubted by most people (he's primarily a comedian, and not a really subtle one), pulls off a less complicated, but not less important role with great seriousness (there are a few humorous bits, but they're dictated by the context and not at all excessive).

And then there's Orlando, whose chronically sad face (even when he's smiling) and marvelous facial expressions have made him the ideal presence in Nanni More tti's body of work. Here, he embodies the character with a sweet yet realistic naiveté that makes Michele easy to empathize with and never pathetic, the bittersweet core of a touching family tragedy. He may have been the second choice for the Volpi Cup in Venice (Jury President Wim Wenders made it pretty clear he preferred Mickey Rourke's turn in The Wrestler, which got the Golden Lion and therefore couldn't receive another award), but a very good choice nonetheless, his eyes conveying a painful humanity only a rock would fail to respond to. His interaction with Rohrwacher alone is good enough a reason to watch this thoughtful film.

Considering the characters, the period and the issues involved, the challenge faced by director Pupi Avanti in his relating of the story of Il Papà di Giovanna is in finding the best way to get across a balanced perspective on events. The result is that none of them seem to be entirely satisfactory other than the one who, admittedly, has been chosen as the subject of the film's title - Giovanna's father.

Giovanna's father Michele Casali is an art teacher at a school in Bologna in the late 1930s, just as the grip of Mussolini's fascist goverment is tightening and leading the country toward war. Casali has a teenage daughter who is somewhat delicate, childish and socially awkward for her age. Her father cares for her (her mother appears indifferent), but worries about her ability to lead a normal life, meet boys and get married to someone suitable.

His concerns grow after Giovanna has a bad experience at a party organised by Giovanna's friend and study partner Marcella, whose uncle is a senator in the Mussolini regime. Soon after the party Marcella is found dead in the gymnasium of the school and Michele's suspicions and fears that his daughter was involved in some way are confirmed when Giovanna is accused of the girl's murder. At the end of the trial however, Giovanna is deemed not responsible for her actions and is sent to an institution rather than a prison.

The handling of the case and Giovanna's involvement isn't handled terribly effectively. We are shown nothing, we have seen little of Giovanna's actions or behaviour to be able to understand what has happened, certainly nothing to suggest that she might be capable of murder, and there is very little detail provided on the presentation of the murder case or the trial. GIovanna confesses, giving obscure and unsound reasons for the killing, so there is not even any question of did she or didn't she. Everything is seen from her father's perspective.

Which is all well and good, or at least it's a consistent position, if not entirely a satisfactory one. While we learn and come to greatly admire his dedication in looking after his daughter despite the privations he suffers, sacrificing his marriage, his job, his home and his dignity and having to do it all moreover in he middle of a war, it means that all those other aspects and the characters involved are not afforded a credible voice or perspective of their own.

Giovanna's mother (Francesca Neri) is silent and brooding, offering no sign of inner life or desires other than significant glances she sends the way of their friend and neighbour, who is a police officer. Michele eventually notices (and it's suggested that Giovanna has noticed and that this instability in the family might be the main reason behind Giovanna's breakdown), and leaves her with love and regret. The war and its conclusion.are handled in a cursory fashion, with round ups and shootings that shed little light on what has happened in between.

The relentlessly downbeat situation becomes somewhat depressing, Michele wearing a permanent hangdog expression, his silent sullen wife suffering marriage to a man she doesn't love and a daughter she cares nothing about, Giovanna treated inhumanely in a miserable institution, the war and bombing adding to the horrors. Despite the grimness of the situation, Avanti expects the viewer not only to care about the characters you can barely comprehend never mind like, but believe that this could come to any kind of happy ending. And yet it does in a way and, surprisingly, you even find yourself strangely moved by it all. If there's a lesson in there about endurance having its own rewards, Il Papà di Giovanna demonstrates that very well indeed.

Touching, sad character study of a father forever protective and loving of his ever more deranged daughter, who murders a boy she is obsessed with in high school. The film covers the years that follow as the father refuses to ever give up on his daughter, no matter what she has done, and what his loyalty costs him.

This could have been sappy or melodramatic, but the acting is all beautifully understated and real, and the background of the rise of fascism and the ravages of WWII in Italy gives a larger context to the questions of guilt, innocence, forgiveness and loyalty.

A quiet film, but a strikingly memorable one.