Roma Blues, review of the film by Gianluca Manzetti with Francesco Gheghi and Mikaela Neaze Silva

Sweaty atmosphere, a flowered shirt, a battered convertible, which trudges and grumbles. A precise and immediately dazzling imagery, the one created by Gianluca Manzetti. A luminous imagery in the narrative structure which, right from the title, mentions the dense air of Miami Blues, a 1984 novel by Charles Willeford, which kicked off the pulp saga of the legendary Sergeant Hoke Moseley. Here, however, we are not in Miami, but in the heart of a dented Rome. A noisy, labyrinthine, out of focus capital, inhabited by ambiguous characters (who seem to have come out of… Fargo by the Coens), tangled up in a night that seems never to end. After all, in Rome Blueswe find the same desire to tell, to quote, to pay homage to hard-boiled literature and classic Hollywood cinema (son of Raymond Chandler), in a pastiche unscrupulous and decidedly successful.

If today there is so much talk about how much Italian cinema needs a replacement, it is clear that Gianluca Manzetti’s debut, after several commercials filmed (those who come from advertising have an edge: they go straight to the point), is the right thermometer to measure an ongoing change which, despite the production difficulties, seems driven by the desire and passion to make cinema (thinking of the big screen, and not of streaming). It seems trivial, and yet Rome Blueswith its distracted and very sweet approach, has a markedly cinematic feel, which reaches the viewer strongly, captured by a story with many twists and turns lots of details.

Roma Blues, between rockabilly and noir

So yes, everything works Rome Blues. Starting from the frame: a Rome colored by the markers of a dynamic scenography, which moves as the protagonists move. A movement that is only apparent, like in the camera cars of 1950s cinema. A Rome with constant construction in progress, stuck in those endless construction sites (the production design work done by Alessandra Carrer is excellent), and asphyxiated by a scorching and oppressive heat. At the center, there is Al (Francesco Gheghihow good in his sly absent-mindedness), who drives around in a beat-up Fiat Barchetta, bringing with him the dream of rock’n’roll (but in the meantime he works in a depressing Wild West-themed playground).

Al is an archetypal character, both in personality and in look, expertly refined, which harks back to rockabilly imagery (the costumes are by Giorgia Maggi). After all, Rome Blues it is a film of imaginaries, which then converge in the turning point that leads to the plot: Al, by chance, finds a telephone that contains evidence of a brutal murder. He, who knows the rules of noir (he devours black and white films in the evening), becomes stubborn and wants to solve the intricate case alone, as if he were detective Marlowe. If the screenplay follows the randomness of events, in a decidedly effective narrative concatenation, Al meets Betty (Mikaela Neaze Silvarevelation), instinctive and unpredictable outsider, helping him in what will turn out to be an absurd and ramshackle do-it-yourself investigation.

Great writing, great staging

Roma Blues, as well as being one of the best debuts seen recently, is essentially a great film. The reason? He works with impressions, arising from a writing that refers to another effective archetype: The Simpsons. Let’s explain better: pay attention to each episode of The Simpsons it starts one way and ends the opposite. The same thing happens in the screenplay written by Manzetti. There is a pretext, and then suddenly the total switch breaks in, which we could not have foreseen. The story moves from one state to another. A style of story that is complicated to structure (let alone for a debut), but which conveys well the idea of ​​an adaptive and fluid narrative that the film possesses, driven by a freedom that relies on the security of the moment, rather than on pre-existing logic. packaged.

Moreover, Rome Blues, which has the ambition of even launching into a brief musical moment, underlines how the most important thing in a film is the screenplay itself. In cinema it is always the idea that makes the difference, perhaps supported by a worthy staging. That’s why we talked about details: Rome Blues attention is paid to the smallest details. The scene almost seems to have a life of its own, driven by a specific circumstance which is then reflected in both Al and Betty. In their tics, in their grimaces, in those dialogues that seem – once again – the result of chance, adaptive to the moment they live in, emphasized by saturated colors which can be accessed thanks to the photography of Tommaso Tiergi. In short, Rome Blues it’s something different, yet it’s something we already know: the son of an imagination that has made American cinema iconic, revised with skillful wit by a director who mixes coming-of-age with hard boiled. Everything, in Roman sauce. Impossible to resist.