A CIAMBRA: Blu-ray/DVD debut for Jonas Campignano's docu-like tale of Romani in Italy

Laden with awards and nominations -- from international festivals and in its own country of Italy via the David Di Donatellos, the Italian version of our "Oscars" -- and also greeted with enthusiasm when it opened theatrically here in the USA earlier this year, A CIAMBRA (so named for an unfinished housing development and neighborhood, shown two photos below, occupied for some years now by a community of Romani people in the Calabria region of Southern Italy) is a hybrid documentary-style narrative film in which an enormous (and real) Romani family, all playing themselves, help tell the tale of one of its younger members, a teenager named Pio, who wants more than anything to become a criminal just like his weirdly adored older asshole brother.

As written and directed by Jonas Campignano (shown at right, of Mediterranea), the movie fairly reeks of reality. You could not ask for anything more "honest" -- from the performances (not simply "warts and all" but "warts and more warts") to the screenplay and dialog (which is noticeably sparse and seems quite believable) and direction and camera-work (by Tim Curtin) that could hardly be more immersive and on-the-mark.

The movie shows us the plight of the Romani in Italy as third-class (if that) citizens, barely a cut above -- in the eyes of the "real" Italians -- those black African immigrants who also flood the area. A Ciambra neither glamorizes nor in any way idealizes its protagonists; in fact, it shows them to be, in many cases, their own worst enemy -- dreaming of a more "romantic," on-the-move past, while doing little (except theft) to address the needs of the present, let alone the future.

And yet the movie itself is paced so slowly, with a plot as obvious and predictable in its own way as any Hollywood sit-com, that it quickly becomes a slough and a real ordeal to have to sit through, given that most viewers with any experience in watching either documentaries or narratives about the "downtrodden" will know exactly where it's going and pretty much how it will get there, too.

Fortunately, the film has as its leading actor a young name named Pio Amato (above), who has at least enough charisma to help carry the film along. We experience all that happens through his eyes and mind, and he does make an interesting and very problemed companion for much of the time. He has no interest in anything except becoming a criminal like his brother (Damiano Amato, below), which as he sees it, is the only viable way to help support his hugely extended family.

Along the way, he (sort of) befriends one of the more helpful Africans (Koudous Seihon, below) and a kind of bond is eventually created, tested, and -- in the film's most moving scene -- broken between them.

"Family first," a mantra too often heard in the world, from culture to culture, rears its ugly head and, via a particularly ugly betrayal, our non-hero sees his fondest wish come true. Surprise? Hardly. And at just two minutes short of two full hours, the movie -- with little plot machination other than that of my description above -- often seems endless.

No hope or even possibility of change is offered -- which is most likely on a par with reality, so far as the Romani are concerned. (Their links to the Mafiosi do not help matters.) And while the film takes place in Italy, one suspects the rest of Europe is quite similar -- as would the U.S. be, too, were the Romani to make any real inroads here.

In fact, one wonders if Signore Campignano would not be the right man to visit America, explore the innermost regions of poor, white, racist Trump country, and then make a movie about how these people, via their beliefs and behavior, are sealing their own -- as well as their country's -- death warrant.

From IFC Films and running 118 minutes, A Ciambra arrives on Blu-ray (the transfer is a decent one, and the bonus features plentiful) and DVD tomorrow, Tuesday, July 10 -- for purchase and/or rental.

Take what you can, or will, from Signore Frammartino's spare LE QUATTRO VOLTE

Another in the growing catalog of films that, intention-ally or not, blur the line between documentary and narrative,   LE QUATTRO VOLTE (The Four Times -- which does sound a bit classier in Italian, right?) looks, feels and acts just like a documentary but is a narrative film, with a cast made up of the actual people who live in the actual mountain town -- a rough gem of isolated, near-timeless beauty -- where it was filmed.  It shows us things we never have seen (and probably never will) in a manner which -- even if we have seen them -- will likely seem unique.

TrustMovies does not read any press material handed out at screenings or with DVD screeners until he has first seen the film at hand.  He makes his critical judgments based on whatever he can garner from what's he's seen, rather than from what he will later read that the filmmaker (in this case, writer/
director Michelangelo Frammartino, shown at right) and his distributor (Lorber Films) might want him to know. This may be unfair to the movie people, but it is fairer, I think, to my readers, who will be plopping their tushies down into $10 to $12 dollar seats without benefit of this "additional information." Regarding Le Quattro Volte, I don't think I've ever read a press kit, post-screening, more filled with surprise information about what I had just seen. Perusing it, I found myself murmuring time and again, "So that's what that scene was meant to convey!" or "That's what that moment was about!"

If the above sounds off-putting, I absolutely do not mean it to be.  Le Quattro Volte is in many ways a wonderful piece of "art" film-making. Consistently beautiful to view, it sets you down in the middle of a place (a small mountain village in Calabria, Italy, above) and of lives (the townspeople, in particular an old shepherd and his herd of goats, below) that you would likely never get near in your own lifetime.

Because there is no audible dialog -- other than ambient sounds of townspeople occasionally talking (that you cannot quite understand, and for which no subtitles are supplied) -- and not a lick of narration by anyone, you simply have to keep your eyes and mind constantly on alert to figure out what is happening and why. This is challenging, and if you go to see this film with a companion, I wager you'll spend time immediately afterward, asking each other questions and exchanging viewpoints.

The movie opens on a gray/white screen, which, after a few moments, we determine is a kind of mist. This is coming up from ... ovens in the ground? So it seems. At first Frammartino's camera remains stationery from place to place, and we think we may be in for something Ozu-like. But no. Soon, he is moving that camera when necessary, taking us to church, to bed, to pasture and elsewhere

We're involved in all this, but often as much by the kind of game the director is playing with us, as by the film itself, which, though not officially a mystery, is still downright mysterious. And sometimes very amusing. A truck arrives in town and from it come what looks like extras in a Roman sword-and-sandal epic. But no, it's some sort of ceremony/pageant (above) for which the townspeople and their priest then leave. A young woman, arriving late for this event, is met by a barking dog which scares her and at which she tosses a stick. This leads, step by step, to one of the funniest movie scenes in recent memory and from there to the famous shot you see below (and on poster, top).

Ah, yes: those goats. You may be put in mind, as was I, of the documentary Sweetgrass, but as movie actors, these goats surpass those sheep by miles. They're as funny and versatile as they are fun to watch, and even their bleating sounds more interesting, individual and resonant than does that of the sheep. We actually witness the birth of one goat, below, and follow its progress until, well, you'll see...

So little do we get to know the humans in this film (including our leading man, that shepherd) and so little happens on one level (on another there's everything here from birth to death to car wreck to lumber-jacking, seen below) that the movie could easily be classified as an "experimental film."  Yet I wager that it will linger longer than a lot of other things you'll view this year.

Le Quattro Volte, from Lorber Films, opens this Wednesday, March 30, at Film Forum in New York City. You can learn of dates, screening times and even buy tickets by clicking here.  To see cities, dates and theaters, where the film will be playing across the country -- including Hawaii! -- click here, and scroll down.

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As a courtesy to my readers (via the courtesy of Lorber Films, of course), I am giving you the link to that exceptional press kit for the film.  But I urge you to see this movie first, challenge yourself to make the necessary connections, and then read the press materials to expand your understanding -- and probably enjoy some interesting surprises.