Italian writer/director Saverio Costanzo’s period drama is a wickedly uneasy character piece, until the story’s key character succumbs — in the third act — to a regrettable case of The Stupids.
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| Bad enough that Mimosa (Rebecca Antonaci, far left) is in over her head at this lavish party; what she doesn't realize is that her companions — from left, Josephine (Lily James), Sean (Joe Keery) and Rufus (Willem Dafoe) — may not have her best interests at heart. |
Costanzo opens on a grim, black-and-white sequence toward the end of the war. This 5-minute prologue turns out to be a film, The Sacrifice, being watched in a crowded movie theater by two sisters — vivacious, gorgeous Iris (Sofia Panizzi) and younger, mousy Mimosa (Rebecca Antonaci) — and their mother Elvira (Carmen Pommella). After the film concludes, they debate the merits of lush Hollywood artifice as opposed to Italian cinema’s then-rising neorealism.
Everybody agrees about the allure of the film’s Italian star, Alida Valli (Alba Rohrwacher) and her American co-star, Sean Lockwood (Joe Keery).
As the trio departs the theater, they’re intercepted by a smarmy talent scout seeking extras for a sword-and-sandal epic current being filmed at Cinecittà; drawn by Iris’ allure, he insists that she try out. Elvira and her husband Rinaldo (Enzo Casertano) give their permission, and the two young women duly present themselves at the studio the following day, with Mimosa acting as chaperone after their mother is left at the gate.
As a sidebar, Elvira and Rinaldo apparently expect Iris to marry well, given her good looks and personality, whereas they’ve “arranged” for Mimosa to wed a working-class policeman. (We meet him briefly. It’s a fate worse than death.)
Iris nails the audition, despite being asked to remove her sweater; the more prim Mimosa balks at that request and thus is dismissed. While subsequently searching for her sister, Mimosa wanders the lot. She first stumbles into a screening room, where studio execs watch footage for a news documentary about the recent discovery of a dead aspiring young actress, Wilma Montesi, on the Capocotta beach adjacent to a lavish estate owned by Ugo Montagna, who had hosted a party the previous evening.
(Costanzo is referencing the actual murder of 21-year-old Montesi, which places this film’s events in 1953.)
More tellingly, Mimosa is spotted in a hallway by Josephine Esperanto (Lily James, channeling 1950s-era Elizabeth Taylor), star of the film-in-progress. It’s a violent romantic triangle involving an evil Egyptian queen (Esperanto) and her step-daughter, played by up-and-coming starlet Nan Roth (Rachel Sennott), both of whom have fallen in love with an enemy prince, played by Sean Lockwood.
Mimosa is startled, a few minutes later, to be summoned into the dressing room because Esperanto wants her to take a brief unspoken role as the queen’s handmaiden, during the film’s climax. Mimosa is in fan heaven, being swoon-worthy close proximity to both Esperanto and Lockwood.
After the shoot concludes, Mimosa is further startled by the presentation of a lovely dress and expensive shoes, as a token of admiration from Esperanto. With darkness falling, and no sign of her sister or mother, Mimosa — now wearing the new outfit — is offered a ride home in Esperanto’s car, which includes Lockwood, and is driven by the actress’ longtime friend Rufus Priori (Willem Dafoe).
At which point, the story begins its slide into mild surrealism. Are we really to believe that Iris and Elvira would leave without Mimosa? For that matter, why would the constantly busy Cinecittà studio be so quiet and empty?
The “ride home” turns out to be a ride to a party hosted by none other than Ugo Montagna (Giovanni Moschella) at his huge home near Capocotta Beach. Mimosa immediate recognizes this from what she saw in the documentary footage.
What follows becomes an increasingly uncomfortable ordeal for a country mouse who falls down a rabbit hole of debauchery. Blatant sexual tension exists between the aging Esperanto, jealous of the up-and-coming Roth, who loves Lockwood, but he has eyes only for Esperanto. Worse yet, Esperanto has insisted upon Mimosa’s presence solely to torment her, like a cat torturing a mouse.
The exaggerated touches notwithstanding, it all works — to a point — because of Antonaci’s persuasive performance. Mimosa is equal parts curious, frightened, timid and star-struck — Alida Valli is one of the many guests — but also determined to be as bold as possible, while surrounded by scores of catty, arrogant sybarites.
The progressively unnerving dynamic reaches its shrieking point when Esperanto cruelly explains that the thus-far unidentified Mimosa is a Swedish poet (!), and insists that she share one of her poems. Naturally, one of the guests is Swedish.
(“Shoot me now,” I muttered to Constant Companion.)
James — who inappropriately gets top billing for a much smaller role than Antonaci’s — is spot-on as the haughty and vindictive Esperanto. Her death stare could freeze a roaring fire at 50 paces, and her waspish asides drip with acid. Keery, all grown up from his Stranger Things days, is equally memorable as the actually-very-insecure Lockwood: a mostly good guy who does his best to “rescue” Mimosa at key moments.
Dafoe makes it difficult to get a read on Priori. Although unfailingly polite and apparently kind, we can’t get beyond the fact that he’s a willing participant to having essentially kidnapped Mimosa to this gathering.
Alas, the disconcerting suspense — with a hint of danger — that Costanzo so deftly builds, during the first two acts, collapses when a) Mimosa does something that she never, ever would have done; and b) the film subsequently slides into bizarre unreality, heightened by the presence of a lion (!), which may be a symbol, rather than its actual self.
One can only snort with annoyance, over the unsatisfying conclusion.
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