La Grande Bellezza
Director: Paolo Sorrentino
Starring: Toni Servillo, Carlo Verdone, Sabrina Ferilli
142 mins; Class 15; KRS

Rome is one of the most beautiful cities on Earth, yet its beauty, its grande bellezza if you will, hides plenty of shadows. That is the underlying maxim at the centre of La Grande Bellezza, the 2014 winner of the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar, among many other accolades.

Set one summer in Rome, we meet the handsome, elegant and beguiling Jep Gambardella (Toni Servillo), a journalist on the cusp of his 65th birthday. The author of a singular and popular novel while in his 20s, Gambardella sat on his laurels following its success.

He spent the next few decades in a comfortable job as a newspaper columnist while enjoying a full and heady social life – his charm and wit the centre of attraction at many dinners and parties.

Yet, now, he begins to look back on life with a bit of a jaded yet lucid eye, the weight of his private failures and career frustrations finally beginning to take their toll.

Much has been said about director Paolo Sorrentino’s Fellini-esque approach to the film. It hits you on the head in the opening 15 minutes or so as some quiet, yet dazzling, shots of the city’s abundant architectural wonders segue to the party under way to celebrate Jep’s birthday.

The same city that once hosted la dolce vita but now celebrates the excesses of the Berlusconi era

Loud pulsating music sends partygoers into a wild frenzy and a kaleidoscope of colourful images and noise blend together in an obvious homage to Fellini’s penchant for extravagance.

But it is with some relief that you greet Gambardella, his sombre opening narration muffling the cacophony as the character establishes his role as both protagonist and observer of the story.

For while there is much to admire in Sorrentino’s imagery, in many instances it feels intrusive; some of the many characters that flit in and out of the story unnecessary.

These include a gourmet-loving cardinal, a 104-year old nun, strippers, animals and birds and sycophantic friends and ex-lovers. This happens to the backdrop of some surreal and erotic sequences that are a feast for the eyes, but do not feed the heart.

For that we have Servillo, whose presence is so powerful and whose performance so spot-on, that you long for him to reappear once the camera leaves him.

He is moving and self-deprecating as a man who bravely looks into the void of his empty life. He looks back with honest regret and more than a hint of sadness at a lost love while preparing himself for the inevitability of old age.

The director certainly makes the most of Rome and its great beauty, making the city as much a protagonist as Jep. He lives in an apartment to die for, with humbling views over the Coliseum.

There is much to admire in the scenes when he is at home, as when he is wandering around the streets of the eternal city. By day, the sun sends sparkling light on the city’s streets and by night it throws everything into a mysterious and magical shade, all courtesy of cinematographer Luca Bigazzi.

Equally a protagonist is the eclectic soundtrack – chosen again to highlight the contradictions inherent in the story. A mix of evergreen Italian pop through the decades and some atmospheric classical pieces, it is music you are constantly aware of yet it is never intrusive. Each diverse piece perfectly heightens the scene it is underscoring.

Sorrentino’s desire is to illustrate the contrasts and contradictions of a man who has it all but is deeply dissatisfied with life, and of a city whose elegance is the backdrop for debauchery .

This is the same city that once hosted la dolce vita but now celebrates the excesses of the Berlusconi era. While the director succeeds, to a large extent, in his desire, fewer excesses would have made the overall impact that much more bitter-sweet.