QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM TALLINN
Andrea Spezzacatene (played with confidence by Samuele Carrino) took his own life immediately after his 15th birthday, following a succession of profoundly dehumanising homophobic attacks (including both physical and cyberbullying) in 2012. His story is narrated by the spirit of the 27-year-old character (Andrea’s age if he was alive today). He recalls from the moment he was born up until the evening when he decided to take his own life. This is no spoiler: Andrea himself reveals in the very first scene that his life ended prematurely.
Born and raised in Rome, Andrea remembers the happy family holidays on the Calabrian beach during his childhood. The focus of the story, however remains on the last year of Andrea’s brief life, just as he moved from middle to high school. The bespectacled teen is a skilled singer and the best student in his class, is also the nerdish underdog. He lives with his mother Teresa (Claudia Pandolfi), father and smaller brother, in a vaguely functional household. At times, his mother is a little absent. Plus his parents are planning to separate. These minor tribulations do not take a major toll on the adolescent, who receives the new of the impending divorce with surprising stoicism. His real tormentors are in school.
Duplicitous and manipulative Christian (Andrea Arru) is the alpha male of the class. He asks Andrea for his support with homework, while also being the first one to laugh out loud when someone writes “Checca-catene” (a portmanteau of “faggot” and Andrea’s surname) on the whiteboard. He deceptively conflates LGBT+ slurs with friendly banter. Andrea realises that his influence is toxic, confessing that his move to a different high school should come as a relief. He also admits that he experienced some sort of fascination with the extremely handsome student,. This sentiment does not equate to homosexuality. It could be a mere reflection of the urge for social ascension. There is no evidence that Andrea was gay.
The kind and innocent boy has very few friends. The only notable exception is his confidante Sara (Sara Ciocca). They frequent the student cinema, and share a passion for cinema (particularly Francois Truffaut’s Jules and Jim, from 1962). Andrea seems to have some romantic feelings for Sara, which she does not reciprocate. The fact that she may be attracted to unscrupulous Christian jeopardises their friendship. Parallel to this, the bullying begins to escalate. Christian’s real allegiances become increasingly clear, as does Christian’s disappointment. Despite the hostile environment, Andrea continues to wear the titular trousers to schools. The colour or the garment sparks constant ridicule. Homophobic and even transphobic slurs become commonplace. The full-blown humiliation happens during a major school event, when Andrea falls in a trap that Christian and his stooges carefully laid out for him.
This captivating Italian drama is not without significant flaws. The cheesy music score – blending Schubert’s Ave Maria, mainstream pop, and perky guitar riffs and sound effects – dilutes some of the most dramatic moments. Most crucially, the story takes just too long to take off, and ends up with the protracted duration of nearly two hours. The poorly-staged birth and the jolly infancy scenes have no clear narrative purpose. They neither provide insight into Andrea’s complex psychology nor provoke reflection. They feel entirely redundant. Fortunately, the ending is a lot more meaningful. A simple narrative device prevents the final denouement from lapsing into predictable cliches.
The Boy with the Pink Pants just premiered in the Official Competition of the 28th Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival. Since Andrea’s death, his mother has become since a prominent anti-bullying campaigner in Italy. Hopefully this film will reach the same school cinema where Andrea watched Jules and Jim. As well as movie theatres all across the nation.
