It's brutal how such a majestically filmed monument to immortalising oneself and one's pain in concrete and marble, filled with poignancy and love, falls so abruptly to pieces by the end. To go so high as to conclude things with such a self-explanatory almost out-of-nowhere statement? To try and justify the massive length in a single, even if very beautiful, monologue? Come on.
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Parthenope 2024
What I love most about Sorrentino is the opportunity to escape the mundane in a deluge of trivialities and pathetics. In such an extreme desire for flamboyant rhetoric, he forcibly brings back that delightful adolescent view of the world, when everything seemed more mysterious and magical than it really was. It's incredibly vulgar, but who the fuck cares? Sometimes it's more sincere than the most subtly conveyed implications.
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