QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM CANNES

The film title gives us a clue as to the nature of the eponymous film protagonist. It comes from the Greek word “parthénos”, meaning “maiden, girl” as well as “virgin, unmarried woman”. It is also the name of a Greek siren that washed up in the shores of the ancient Italian city. Parthenope is born into the waters of the Gulf of Naples. She grows up to become an insanely beautiful woman in her 20s (played by Celeste Dalla Porta), during the late 1960s. The movie traces constant parallels between its protagonist and the the third large city of Europe: both are enrapturing, seductive, brimming with history, and with a penchant for anthropology. Even more significantly, both are gorgeous. The director of The Great Beauty (2013) continues his indefatigable quest for aesthetic perfection (of both his films and the characters within).

Parthe (this is how the most intimate affectionately call our protagonist) is a devoted university student, always prepared to challenge the authority oof her anthropology professor Devoto Marotta (a wonderful Silvio Orlando). The older man becomes so impressed by her skills that he eventually asks her to take over his role after he retires. He isn’t her only fan. Another professor asks the nymphet whether she would marry him if he was 40 years younger. She sharply retorts: “That’s the wrong question. You should be asking yourself whether you would marry me if I was 40 years olds“, in what’s probably the movie’s wittiest and funniest remark.

Despite the university scenes, it is not within enclosed buildings that the majority of the story takes place. A bikini-clad Parthe repeatedly parades her flawless body on the beach, on the streets, and on the balconies. Young male bodies are also everywhere, in a movie more concerned with shallow and conventional ideals of beauty than with the banal storyline. The narrative surrounds Parthe’s university, her disappointments with her early loves, and her sudden career ascension. The sex scenes are lame and dispassionate. Creepy characters such as a woman who covers her deformed face, and poverty-adverse socialite Great Cool (Luisa Ranieri) allows the story to breathe, as well as providing it with a little comic relief.

The film culminates with an awkward display of Parthe’s body, with a drooling, demon-life figure attempting to seduce her. It’s your decision whether this is a tasteless and voyeuristic view of the female body, or an ironic denunciation of the toxic male gaze. I’m more inclined towards the former possibility. Sorrentino, with a helping hand from his DoP Daria D’Antonio, constantly indulges in close-ups of perfect human beings. He seems to dislike non-conventional bodies. Does he not realise that both women and his native Naples are full of beautiful blemishes, scars and deformations? Instead, 53-year-old Italian director remains oblivious to the fact that both human beings and cities are magnificent in their imperfections. There is abundant beauty in chaos.

Naples here is elegant and grandiose, often seen from a distance, or inside the sumptuous and ornate palaces, decorated by intricate walls and expensive furniture . There is no sign of poverty, and of the chaotic hustle and bustle that is more commonly associated with the Italian city, as seen in recent films such as Piranhas (Claudio Giavannesi, 2019), or even Sorrentino’s own The Hand of God (2021). Sadly, I have never visited the Naples, but I’m confident that there’s abundant beauty in the less sumptuous districts, and the more densely-populated areas. Just as with women, Sorrentino’s concept of urban beauty is also narrow and conventional.

The story also features British actor Gary Oldman as American author John Cheever, apparently the only person on earth who does not wish to have sex with the irresistible Parthe. Oherwise all males are frothing horny beasts in who will settle for nothing but scantly dressed young women in their 20s, and with the face of a porcelain doll. So refreshing!

The incessant dialogues that punctuate this interminable and overbloated essay on beauty (the runtime has a whopping 138 minutes) seek to provide the movie with an intellectual veneer, but the platitudes that the characters utter barely say anything interesting about Italian culture and history. The cheesy Italian pop track does little to lift the atmosphere of this lacklustre and unoriginal story, the only exception is a very energetic, brief clip of song by Peruvian singer Yma Sumak

In other words, this is a conventionally “beautiful” movie desperately lacking a little edge and a little dirt.

Parthenope is showing in the Official Competition of the 77th Cannes International Film Festival.