| The Son's Room (La Stanza del figlio) |
As recent events have only made clear, each individual deals with grief in a different manner. Some may seek solace in their religious faith, others may drown their sorrows in alcohol or other substances, while others may fall prone to depression. For some families a trauma can draw the individual members closer while in others, it tears them apart (sometimes irrevocably). Filmmaker Nanni Moretti achieved success in his native Italy with a series of semi-autobiographical, political comedy-dramas. International audiences (especially those in the USA) perhaps first became aware of him with 1993's DEAR DIARY/CARO DIARIO, in which he portrayed a movie director and which earned him the director's prize at the Cannes Film Festival. Eight years later, Moretti won the top prize at Cannes for THE SON'S ROOM/LA STANZA DEL FIGLIO, a sober drama that explores how a family reacts when tragedy strikes. (The film was also screened at the 2001 New York Film Festival.) Perhaps American audiences and critics unfamiliar with Moretti's oeuvre might not fully comprehend why their European counterparts have embraced this chamber drama. For Moretti, it's a leap forward in his career; while there are elements from his earlier work, there is also a maturation. His earlier work has is in a more narcissistic vein. Not that there aren't traces of it in THE SON'S ROOM, but in this case the self-absorption eventually is broken down allowing Moretti's character to reach out to others. Giovanni (Moretti) is a psychoanalyst working out of his home. He has a beautiful wife (Laura Morante) and two seemingly adjusted children, Irene (Jasmine Trinca) and Andrea (Giuseppe Sanfelice). But there are signs that all might not be well with his teenage son. The boy is accused of stealing a fossil from a school science lab and his parents rush to his defense. (He later confesses to his mother that he did indeed steal the object, but only as a joke. It was his intention to return the fossil but then it broke.) There's some of the usual father-son tension as the younger male seeks to make his way in the world. When his father cancels a date to go jogging with his son in order to tend to a troubled patient, the stage is set for tragedy. Indeed, while Giovanni is struggling with his client, Andrea goes off on a scuba diving expedition and suffers an accident. The death of a child is perhaps the most horrific event any parent can experience. Giovanni, of course, blames himself -- and worse, his needy patient. He constantly plays the "if only ..." game (as in "if only I had gone jogging with Andrea"). All sorts of thoughts torture him; was it really an accident? Why Andrea? The usual sort of thing. While certainly somewhat melodramatic, THE SON'S ROOM doesn't go off on dramatic tangents. Instead, Moretti (who co-wrote the screenplay with Linda Ferri and Heindrud Schleef) focuses on the mundane, the day to day rituals that are now upended. There's an emptiness (symbolized by the title) that cannot be filled. For a man so used to aiding others in their problems, Giovanni is helpless. He cannot heal his own pain, how can he be expected to aid his grieving wife or daughter? The film takes a surprising turn near the end when an off-screen character decides to make an appearance; that individual's presence begins the healing process for Giovanni and his family and allows the film to end on a somewhat hopeful note. Moretti's direction is understated and quiet. It allows for the accumulation of detail, letting the audience get to know the members of the family as individuals and then watching at a remove as they nearly come apart. As a screen presence, Moretti is reserved, a control freak watching in horror as everything around him collapses. Laura Morante provides the emotional core to the film as Paola, who is wise enough to understand her husband but at pains to provide him with the comfort or absolution he requires. THE SON'S ROOM is a chamber drama that explores how one family reacts to the unthinkable. While it eschews flashy techniques and high drama, it serves as a low-key reminder of the private anguish and anger that can arise from a tragedy. Rating: B+ MPAA Rating: R for language and some sexuality Running time: 99 mins. |

| © 2005 by C. E. Murphy. All Rights Reserved. |