Parthenope

Paolo Sorrentino's latest continues to keep viewers at arm's length

Paolo Sorrentino is a director mesmerized by beauty, be it in art, landscapes, architecture, or human beings. His Oscar-winning film The Great Beauty (2013) is his most blatant submission to this intrigue, but you can see it in his other projects from miniseries The Young Pope (2016) and Loro (2018) to films Youth (2015) and The Hand of God (2021). In Parthenope (2024) Sorrentino continues down the reflective path he began with the memoir-like Hand of God, looking at his hometown of Naples.

Parthenope follows the eponymous character (Celeste Dalla Porta) named after one of Naple’s monikers, itself taken from a mythological siren whose heart was broken by Ulysses. Parthenope is a young and beautiful anthropology student in 1970s Naples. The world is taken by her stunning looks, and yet she finds herself at a loss for who she wants to be. Parthenope is structured as a picaresque story, with our titular character undergoing a variety of adventures, from a trip to Capri with her brother Raimondo (Daniele Rienzo) and best friend Sandrino (Dario Aita), to a date with an underworld kingpin (Marlon Joubert), and a party with the Bishop of Naples (Peppe Lanzetta). The entire narrative is strung together by Parthenope’s meetings with her apathetic thesis advisor Professor Marotta (Silvio Orlando) as it becomes the sole relationship where Parthenope’s beauty is not the topic of discussion.

Sorrentino once again dons his film with a Fellini-esque surrealist cinematography, deliciously framed by director of photography Daria D’Antonio. If you paused Parthenope at random, the frame you fall upon would be worthy of hanging in a living room. Such is the mesmerizing nature of Sorrentino’s attention to detail and color alongside patient takes. I could have stared for hours at a simple shot of the turquoise Mediterranean sea. Sorrentino has enough of a track record where one can easily identify his films by simply looking at how he meshes long takes with old pop and slight absurdist humor.

When choosing a picaresque structure, you run the risk of appearing disparate and unfocused. Parthenopeavoids testing viewers’ patience through much of the runtime, as you long to learn how our protagonist will define herself. Yet, as we embark on more and more journeys, which leave our character in the same place she started, you inevitably begin to look at your watch. A similar film follows a young woman, adrift in how she wanted to define herself, and is structured around chance encounters, showcasing how the picaresque structure can be pulled off. This film is The Worst Person in the World (2021). The Norwegian film had its female protagonist discover unwanted paths multiple times, yet was able to draw viewers in with forward motion, you felt that our character was learning as she exposed herself to us. In Parthenope, Sorrentino falls into one of his weaknesses, focusing on a beautiful aesthetic, but leaving the interiority of his characters inaccessible. Parthenope remains an elusive beauty, winking at viewers as to what she truly is thinking about. This keeps viewers at arm’s length regarding any emotional attachment.

Sorrentino uncovers a mesmerizing talent in Dalla Porta. It would have been easy to pick a beautiful actress and be done with, but Dalla Porta must exude a charisma to make you understand why everyone’s head turns in her direction. This aura has to be pulled off with an air of cool and unyielding confidence, all while refraining from appearing cliché. Dalla Porta also the type of face that viewers feel as if they’ve seen hundreds of times before (this is her first major film), and adds to the casting prowess and comfort that Dalla Porta’s performance brings to viewers. She is allowed to show some range of emotions, but sadly the tough exterior that Sorrentino refuses to crack open doesn’t permit viewers to see the full extent of the young actress’ abilities.

In the end, Parthenope is another fine and beautiful Sorrentino film. His employment of surrealism from the Fellini school, allows you to interpret the film in many ways; from a love letter to Naples to an allegory of confused youth, or an adapted mythological tale. The structure does disjoint the flow and focus of the narrative, and Sorrentino’s barrier between his character’s interior and exterior robs the film of the emotional heft it deserved.

6.9/10