Venice, Golden Lion to Pedro Almodovar's La Stanza accanto
Pedro Almodóvar's 'La stanza accanto' deservedly won, the Grand Jury Prize went to Delpero's Italian 'Vermiglio'. Volpi to Kidman and Lindon. Pity only the screenplay to Salles. "Queer" big excluded
4' min read
4' min read
These are lions roaring, scratching, biting. Huppert's jury, at the head of a strong team (Gray, Haigh, Holland, Mendonça Filho, Sissako, Tornatore, von Heinz, Ziyi), looked to quality, but above all to politics for a competition that saw only one exceptional film, the one that won, The Next Room by Pedro Almodóvar, a very good one, Ainda Estou aqui by Walter Salles, an Italian surprise, Vermiglio, and for the rest, well-packaged films, which conveyed stars with which to dazzle the red carpet, or held up to the Cencelli of geographical or genre distribution.
But Almodóvar's victory makes up for everything. The Next Room starring Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore reaffirms euthanasia as a fundamental right, that of being able to choose how to end one's life with dignity when pain makes it unbearable. Swinton is Martha, a war correspondent, suffering from terminal cancer, and Ingrid, played by Moore, is a renowned writer, who resumes dating Martha upon learning of her illness.
Almodóvar tapered the feelings, calibrated them, there is participation but not laceration, while the bright colours are limited to the clothing. His baroque vein is set aside to give a message of humanity and hope, positive in solidarity and the transmission of love through a relationship based on generosity and acceptance.
Grand Jury Prize to Italian Vermiglio by Maura Delpero
The Grand Jury Prize for Maura Delpero's Vermiglio was a nice surprise, an encouragement to Italian cinema with a different, original, universal look. With photography by Michail Kričman, who makes the landscape a character alongside Tommaso Ragno's schoolmaster and his young bride Lucia (Martina Scrinzi), Delpero tells the story of families broken apart by the Second World War, deprived of male figures capable of going to the front. He does this in an Alpine context, with the dialect of the Trentino Val di Sole, where the shy and sacrificed way of life touches chords of ancestral family memories, common to all.
The direction went to Brady Corbet's The Brutalist starring Adrien Brody, who holds on his shoulders the story of László Tóth, a Hungarian architect who emigrated to the United States in 1947 and imported the Brutalist current to America. From poverty to his renewed fame in his homeland, from a history of opiate addiction to family reunion, to the ghosts of the Holocaust: perhaps too many threads unwind in a way that is not always linear and sobering, except for him, Brody, who always lives up to his character, even in the ashes.


