Written by Giorgia Cattaneo
Parthenope, presented at the Cannes Film Festival last year, can be seen as Sorrentino’s attempt at redemption after being criticized for the lack of female representation in his filmography. This time, the world-acclaimed Italian director chooses to tell the story through the eyes of Parthenope, a young woman born from the sea of Naples – a character embodying the city where he grew up. Despite the premise, the film perpetuates the same outdated, male-gazed perspective – only this time, it is poorly disguised under a veil of fake “empowerment”.
Parthenope, beautiful and captivating, is reduced to the modern stereotype of the femme fatale, yet simultaneously portrayed as free and independent – studying anthropology at university and aiming for an academic career. However, her decisions seem constantly driven by the attention she gains from others: everything she does, whether good or bad, is motivated by how she looks and is perceived by others. The nature of her relationships with men is also strange – we see her having an affair with her brother, as well as with an elderly English writer and a priest. Moreover, coming from a wealthy family, she remains completely unbothered by the brutality of the malavita permeating the world she inhabits. Her character feels almost artificial, constantly speaking in clichés and philosophical quotes, as though following a poorly written script.
The plot itself feels more like an accumulation of unrelated events, lacking any coherent direction. Even the few potentially strong topics that emerge at certain points in the narrative, such as crime and suicide, are quickly dismissed and never fully explored. We know nothing about Parthenope’s abortion, as showing every inch of her low-cut dresses seems far more relevant to the plot than exploring the consequences such a choice could have on a young woman, especially in the 1970s Italy. So why pretend to care about the female experience – why mention women’s real issues at all, if what you want your audience to see is nothing but a sexualized body seasoned with existential themes?
It’s almost as if Sorrentino drives himself mad trying to imagine what life would be like as an unbelievably hot woman, and from that position, delves once again into his obsession for youth and beauty. Such a delirium of egocentrism that not even a brilliant cinematography could cover: in fact, Naples merely serves as an ordinary background and completely loses its central role and the personification given by the director, just as Parthenope’s disillusionments, which reflect the darker side of the city but never transforms into a true social critique.
And so, Parthenope joins a long line of male-dominated narratives, resulting in a pretentious film that makes many promises but fails to deliver on any of them.
Photo credits : Gianni Fiorito. Courtesy of A24.
Comments
Post a Comment