Io sono l'amore

Greetings again from the darkness. A really good film from writer/director Luca Guadagnino and a terrific performance from Tilda Swinton. The film centers on power and family and trust and self-discovery ... and the complexities of each.

As a young, working class Russian, Emma (Tilda Swinton) is whisked away to marriage and life in the aristocracy of Milan. She dutifully raises her kids and organizes huge dinners and parties at their mansion as the Rechhi's entertain business clients and their own family. It is during these parties that we realize Emma is technically part of the family, but really is still an outsider. She escapes to her own space once the events are running smoothly.

Being an avid cook herself, she easily clicks with a brilliant young chef introduced to the family by her own son. Very little doubt where it's headed at this point as Emma unleashes the pent up energy she has been forced to hide. While we are very aware that the upper crust has learned to look the other way with infidelity, that's not the case with the Rechhi's and their Russian wife/mother.

The brilliance in the film is that it shows how the younger generation doesn't really fit any better than Emma. The difference is that they are part of the fabric and will be allowed more rope than an outsider. Still it is painful to watch Emma and her son, who can't quite adapt to the family business. Better yet, to watch her with her daughter, who confesses her preference for other women. Emma sees herself in these two, but doesn't have the same freedom. Her best ally is the caretaker who seems to understand the multiple levels on which this family functions.

Fascinating interactions and complex writing make this a film for film lovers. There is so little dialogue, but so much is said with a glance or head nod. Many U.S. writers could learn a thing or two. Must also mention the startling score by John Adams. It is quite operatic, which plays along with the themes of the film.

I'm truly baffled. Not so much by the movie itself – the plot ambles along with excruciating predictability. No, what mystifies me is my friend's and reviewer's fervent reaction to "I Am Love". I just don't get it. Apart from some beautiful photography, and perfectly adequate performances, what exactly does this film offer? The characters are cold and unengaging; their motivation obscure. The "erotic" moments are so clichéd they look like parodies. The heart and soul of the film seem to be completely missing.

Really. I was amazed. You see, I'm such a sucker for emotional engagement with characters – I'll laugh, cry, hate, fear, cheer and philosophise along with pretty much any film I watch. I'm a producers dream.

But this? It washes over you and you sit (admiring the view) in the hope and expectation that something is going to happen soon. Something will surprise you. A character will suddenly come to life – reach out and draw you in. That you'll get a golden moment, or even a whiff of cinematic soul. But no. Nothing.

So – there it is. There's either something vital that I'm missing here or this emperor is indeed stark naked? I Am Disappointed.

When have you felt most alone?

Milan. Winter. Upper-middle classes,Northern Italy. A dizzying array of people who all know each other and we don't.

Speaking about I Am Love, Tilda Swinton remarks, "Overcoming the idea of oneself, as created by society, has been one of my main interests since Orlando." In that earlier film, which was based on a novel by Virginia Woolf, Swinton's character self-reflected by seeing how society views her through different time periods and even a gender change. In I Am Love, Emma (Swinton) connects with love as a revolutionary force and throws off the shackles of a persona forced on her by circumstance.

I Am Love is unusual as an art film in that it is set in a world of exquisite luxury and good taste. It is not the simplistic attack on bourgeoisie we might at first expect. Working out the underlying moral fabric requires effort (but is richly rewarded). Love, or Emma, is no martyr to idealism. Revolution (of the social order) – or love – can only be justified by its success. Even the cinematic temptation to tragedy will extolled and then dashed through with a sword.

Russian-born Emma is Tancredi's wife. Tancredi co-inherits the family textile fortunes with his son Edo. Emma, although head of the household, is something of a show wife. With style and authority, but no clearly defined role in terms of business or of culture. The traditions and values of Tancredi's father for the former have maybe skipped a generation to the untried Edo. For the latter, to his sister and artist-photographer, Betta.

Secondary characters quickly provide clues to the theme. Edo's friend Antonio is an innovative, high class chef. Cuisine elicits a life-fulfilling passion in him for perfection and meaning. And Betta has a life of her own of which the parents suspect little. "Only you love me for who I really am," she tells Emma.

A superficial reading of I Am Love could leave the viewer with the impression of tragedy in which love has terrible consequences. It is essential to analyse what one actually sees (rather than a Hollywood ending that would have emphasised different points entirely). One can then imagine conversations over glasses of chablis, berating the section where the film goes 'oh so Lady Chatterley,' oblivious to how the film attacks that very same self-satisfied air of culture without visceral involvement. Even an interest in Swinton's breasts disguised by trappings of intellectual analysis. More lowbrow cinema-goers could feel even more frustrated at the 'missed opportunities' for histrionics, the emotional 'involvement' that comes from more manipulative screen writing.

I Am Love is social melodrama in the best traditions of Italian cinema. It lines up, surprisingly, more with works like L'avventura and that film's quest for self, than the compassionate criticism of an elite class in Il Gattopardo (The Leopard). In I Am Love, good taste and refinement is simply the medium for those with an ability and wherewithal to appreciate it – epitomised by Tancredi's father, his son, but perhaps not Tancredi himself. It carries no moral connotation. Empty shells on the other hand, form without substance, ultimately and unknowingly seeks its own destruction.

Tilda Swinton's career has forged a extraordinary path. In mainstream cinema, she has been hailed for work like Michael Clayton which, while impressive, hardly shows her skill in portraying worthwhile values (compared, say, to her portrait in Stephanie Daley). Or her powerhouse as an actress, in challenging cinephile gems such as The Man From London. I Am Love has potential to reach a wider, discerning audience, than her Bela Tarr movie, being shown not only in art house but as least one multiplex chain. It has an arresting, and rather beautiful romance at its heart, and one that becomes a striking metaphor for finding one's true course in life. It is ascetically 'thinking person's cinema' yet lovers of fine things can luxuriate in the sumptuous sets and costumes that inhabit art history and couture (Silvia Fendi, third generation of the famous luxury brand, was also an associate producer on the movie). Music is by Pulitzer Prize winning composer John Adams, and the perfectly choreographed closing scenes have almost operatic intensity.

One of the pleasures of writing a review is the opportunity to think a more deeply about the film - when one has to put words to paper. Only when forced to analyse the story, to separate the expected from what really happened, did I truly appreciate it. Swinton's Emma is no modern-day Madame Bovary. Style, plot and execution is far less predictable than it seems. Clichés of rich-poor, virgin-whore, as well as cinematic tropes that have become stale are effortlessly avoided. Confusing feelings are not indicated by fast cuts, but by unrelentingly staring at the character struggle in a long take.

I particularly like Swinton's power for creating interiorisation. This is visual acting at its best, showing what is going on in her head without having it spelt out. There are moments of exultation when she can barely contain herself. And moments when she struggles to stay on course – as we should, if we want to keep up. We find ourselves transfixed by her face in the bathroom. A place of privacy, where she can almost admit to herself the jubilation at a stolen kiss. And, like the art book she forgets to pay for, full of future portent. Or the moments when she is torn, at the climax of the film. The difficult self-examination in the midst of events. When Tancredi summons damnation in the words, "You don't exist," she has passed the point where she might cling to merely existing. Freedom is the power to 'go,' and to 'do.' Any avowedly lightweight cinemagoer might complain that the deaths are not dramatic enough. The cinematography not stark enough (to make us gasp in awe every few seconds at the beautiful surroundings) or the dialogue not self-explanatory enough.

I can't describe the power of this film, and I can't stop thinking about it either. There's a negative review on here that says to go see MICHAEL CLAYTON instead and not to waste your time. Well, if a movie about plot, overly drawn characters and artifice, all shot by the book, is what you're looking for, then yes... this probably isn't the movie for you.

But if you like people more than stories. If you want to see film-making at its most graceful and organic and inventive, if you want a musical score that will turn a sidelong glance into an operatic overture, then this IS the movie for you. It is a baroque masterwork. A cathedral of a film. Cold as stone but inspiring the soul.

Tilda Swinton is a goddess. She says so little, but communicates so much. There's an entire ocean of emotion inside or her, spilling out of her eyes. I cried twice at this film. Once because of the subject matter and then again at the delicacy of the film-making. Don't let people with conservative tastes and conventional ideas of film and story tell you not to go see this movie. They are robbing you of experiencing pure emotive cinema.

I was amused and entertained. Taken, very taken by how seriously it takes itself but I don't mean that in an patronizing way. For those people the subject treated is of paramount importance. The past and the future mingling in a world where profit commands. The young son, a stunning, Flavio Parenti, is the one attached to the old traditions. A rich capitalist with a socialist sensibility. Tilda Swinton runs the gamut of emotions and she does it beautifully. Details are terribly important here and, I must confess, I thought of Visconti, specially because Violante Visconte di Modrone is part of the cast. Who is Mr Guadagnino, the director? Where does he come from? He seems incredibly sure of himself. Costumes, interiors, landscapes are a visual feast. The score is also a very bold touch. Marisa Berenson (Barry Lyndon) and Gabriele Ferzzetti (L'Avventura) are added pleasures to this unexpected, if sometimes irritating, treat.