Mafia offshoots, teen variety, in Claudio Giovannesi's Italian melodrama, PIRANHAS

We get so few Italian movies opening theatrically here in the USA of late that TrustMovies tends to be thankful for just about any new movie from Italy that comes our way. (He greatly misses being in New York City for the yearly Open Roads series of new Italian cinema that turns up each June.)

Consequently, he was pleased to hear about and then view PIRANHAS (Italian title La paranza dei bambini, which translates, I believe, to something like a netful of children), a film directed by Claudio Giovannesi from the novel by Gomorrah scribe, Roberto Saviano, with a screenplay co-written by Saviano, Giovannesi and Maurizio Braucci.

As with Gomorrah, the new Piranhas deals with the mafia/cammora as so integral and longstanding a part of Italian society as to be practically inseparable from what we might call "life itself." Taking place in the streets, clubs and homes of Naples, Italy (some of those homes are impressive indeed), the film begins as a gang of Naples teenagers steals a huge Christmas tree from a public place, while warding off an attack by a rival gang.

Giovannesi, pictured at right, has staged this, along with a number of other "action" scenes quite well, initially pulling us in via a single character then expanding to more and more, until his movie opens up in surprising, often impressive, ways.

If Piranhas tells us little that is new, as this small gang of willful, mischief-making but rather sweet boys (above) turns into a batch of profiteering murderers, it tells its tale in smart, swift, gorgeously photographed scenes (by Daniele Cipri, who directed and shot It Was the Son and handled cinematography on several of the recent films of Marco Bellocchio).

Piranhas also thrusts into prominence a young man appropriately named Francesco de Napoli (above, right, and below, left) who, at 15 years of age, gives a star-making debut performance in the leading role of Nicola, the boy who leads this gang of newbies. Signore Di Napoli, has a face that the camera eats right up and then asks for more. He's beautiful (he may remind you in certain scene of the young Alain Delon), but he's also full of energy and specificity in terms of his performance. He's not content to simply look good (though at all times he certainly does).

As Nicola turns from a somewhat tender, intelligent, hopeful young man (who wants to protect his mom and her dry cleaning establishment from camorra predators) into a killer, Di Napoli charts the course with plenty of energy and character-defining detail. His attraction to and maybe love for the young girl (Viviana Aprea, below) from a neighboring community is handled with the kind of youthful bravado and carelessness rife among youth in just about all western cultures.

The film also offers yet another object lesson in the danger to society of kids with guns, as consequences -- intended and unintended -- come to pass with a finality that these youthful idiots simply cannot or will not appreciate. Though the end results here will clearly go against our protagonists eventually -- as newer, smarter, younger folk come into power --  filmmaker Giovanese (who also gave us the sweet and unusual prison love story, Fiore) spares us the sadness, pain and bloodshed by simply ending on the road to an oncoming act of vengeance.

If this seems too easy, it is also somehow appropriate. Younger audiences can revel in the immediate thrill, while us older folk shake our heads and murmur, "Sure, kids: just wait...."

From Music Box Films, in Italian with English subtitles and running 112 minutes, Piranhas opens in New York City this Friday, August 2, at Film at Lincoln Center, and then expands to another 17 cities -- including Los Angeles at the Landmark NuArt on August 9 -- over the coming weeks. To see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters, click here and then scroll down to click on Theatrical Engagements.

To die of music: John Turturro's Italy/USA co-production PASSIONE makes NYC debut

To die of love: You've heard that phrase, right? Romeo and Juliet, etc. But to die of music? Until I'd viewed John Turturro's singular achievement PASSIONE,  I would not have imagined that possible. Now, I'm not so sure. Here we have music brought to visual and aural life so immediate and dramatic -- full of love, hate, joy and sorrow, not to mention a sexuality that is stunning in its pride and openness -- that even death not only loses its proverbial sting but seems a piker by comparison to this music. Watching Passione (just as it seemed while watching many of the Italian movies that made up the recently concluded Open Roads series at the FSLC), you understand again why -- as concerns films that breathe life from every frame -- nobody does it quite like the Italians.

Mr Turturro, shown at right, has subtitled his new film "a musical adventure" and indeed it is: 23 songs -- of all sorts -- that are quintessentially Neapolitan. From within the soul of these diverse pieces pour out the culture and history of Naples, including its many invaders, from the Greeks and Arabs to the French, Spanish, Normans and Americans -- the latter during and after WWII. The filmmaker has cobbled together his mixed "concert" with only the briefest introduction and occasional break to hand us further information. But this is enough. The music (and the performance of it) is the thing here, and it ranges from the simply good/interesting to the utterly staggering. I am trying to recall when I have seen such full-out, emotionally rich song renditions, but I come up empty.

Numbers like Era de Maggio, performed by Misia (above), accompanied by Avion Travel, with Peppe Servillo also on vocals (he's the brother of Toni Servillo; you'll spot the resemblance), and Malafemmena with Massimo Ranieri (below) and Lina Sastri are among the most dramatic, full-bodied songs imaginable. And they are sung to perfection here.

We see Signore Ranieri in his younger days, too, as a teen heart-throb, and we hear O Sole Mio performed in so many ways, including by the famous Sergio Bruni, with the beauty of the song always at the forefront.

Comme Facette Mammeta gets a rendition by Pietra Montecorvino (above) that is astonishing (it is also danced to erotic climax by a bevy of gorgeous young women). Where in the world would you see anything like this except, I guess, in Naples? Gennaro Cosmo Parlato's number -- Maruzzella -- sung at the beach in a voice from which sorrow drips off every note is another astounding piece of music and acting. Really: You just don't see/hear stuff like this anywhere else.

Perhaps the most bracing and certanly the most riveting section is devoted to Naples post-WWII, with the influx of US soldiers, some of them black. We hear from James Senese about his own intriguing history, along with his voice and sax on the title song Passione; then the section ends with an incredible combination of the old standard Al Dexter's Pistol Packing Mama and Tammurriata Nera, featuring Peppe Barra, Max Casella (shown above, center) and M'Barka Ben Taleb.

Passione is not Mr. Turturro's first musical. In 2005 he made Romance and Cigarettes -- a movie I remember enjoying quite a lot, and yet I cannot recall a single musical number from it. That will not be the case with his latest film -- the music from which is unforget-table. Given his editing skill on display here and his (and his performers') ability to make the music and lyrics live and pulsate, I can't help wondering what he might be able to do with a Broad-way musical transfer-red to film: Rags, for instance -- one of the most emotional, gorgeous and under-rated musicals to have graced the stage. I hope Turturro gets his chance to do more with music on film.
This guy's got the gift.

Passione opens this Wednesday, June 22, for a two-week run at New York City's Film Forum -- after which, I hope it plays all over creation. Click here to see the most current listing of playdates, cities and theaters. And then go see the movie.