Il Guardian elogia La grande bellezza

la-grande-bellezza-servillo-sorrentino-nuova-foto

In occasione dell’uscita nelle sale inglesi, Peter Bradshaw recensisce nuovamente La grande bellezza di Paolo Sorrentino con toni ancor più entusiastici di quelli usati allo scorso Festival di Cannes.

Curioso destino quello del film italiano: osannato a Cannes dalla stampa internazionale, snobbato ingiustamente dalla giuria, attaccato in patria dai quotidianisti e rivalutato dalla stampa specializzata e da internet.

Fa chic parlarne male, ma è l’unico grande autore italiano della nuova generazione, assieme a Matteo Garrone. Teniamocelo stretto, con tutta la sua sfacciata ambizione…

Paolo Sorrentino’s La Grande Bellezza is a compelling tragicomedy of Italy’s leisured classes in the tradition of Antonioni’s La Notte or Fellini’s La Dolce Vita. It is a pure sensual overload of richness and strangeness and sadness, a film sometimes on the point of swooning with dissolute languour, savouring its own ennui like a truffle. But more often it’s defiantly rocking out, keeping the party going as the night sky pales, with all the vigour of well-preserved, middle-aged rich people who can do hedonism better than the young. It is set in Rome, populated by the formerly beautiful and the currently damned, and featuring someone who doesn’t quite fall into either category.

[…] La Grande Bellezza reunites Sorrentino with his favourite leading man, that uniquely potent stage and screen actor Toni Servillo, who like no other unlocks Sorrentino’s fierce, Jonsonian satire.

[…] The grande bellezza, like the grande tristezza, can mean love, or sex, or art, or death, but above all it means Rome, and the city is evoked with staggering flair and attack. Sorrentino’s signature swooping and zooming camera discloses scenes and figures and faces.

[…] This is Sorrentino’s best film so far, a movie with all the angular caricature and cosmopolitan suavity that marked films such as Il Divo, The Family Friend and The Consequences of Love, but with a new operatic passion and clamour, a sense of love and loss, and an even sharper, more piercing sense of the forms of power and prestige. And for its intense, unbearable melancholy, the final end-title sequence has to be watched through to the very end until the screen goes dark.

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