Gemma Creagh acknowledges an Italian Job well done with Vermiglio.
In the icy, mountainous landscape of Northern Italy sits the remote village of Vermiglio where the Graziadei family have built their home. There, the weather is harsh, food is rationed, and the violence of World War Two plays out far in the distance. Household patriarch, local school teacher Cesare Graziadei (Tommaso Ragno) plays Vivaldi’s Four Seasons to his students as he talks about the passage of time. The family has just taken in, rather reluctantly, a deserter. Pietro (Giuseppe De Domenico) spends his nights shell-shocked in their broken down barn. Lucia (Martina Scrinzi), Graziadei’s eldest daughter, is drawn to his gentle demeanour and big sad eyes. Adele, their mother, fights to advocate for the family, to put food on the table, all while tending to her ailing infant.
This community sits under the literal and figurative shadow of the church. Adele’s family is already large, and throughout the years, she has continued birthing child after child despite their limited resources, and lack of assistance from Cesare. The town and community serve as a narrator, giving context for each moment, discussing the nature of dissenters and what behaviour is wrong for a woman. The middle daughter, Ada (Rachele Potrich), grapples with her growing sexuality and forms a bond with local outsider Virginia (Carlotta Gamba). Ada’s unsure of her future, and the life of her mother holds no appeal for her. In school, Ada competes against her youngest daughter, Flavia (Anna Thaler). Ada works hard to improve her studies, as Cesare has made it very clear that only one girl will continue on to further their education. Meanwhile, Cesare sees his hot-tempered son Dino (Patrick Gardner) as something of a disappointment, and openly dismisses him. As the seasons pass, Lucia and Pietro’s romance begins to blossom. However, fate has other plans for the Graziadei family. And when tragedy strikes, just as in life, the burden of family hardship lies squarely on the shoulders of the Graziadei women.
This is the second feature from Maura Delpero, who made her name in the field of documentary; that vein of truthfulness is noticeable too in this work. Delpero decided to make the film after her father’s death to capture and honour the traditions where he had grown up. She conducted interviews with local people during pre-production, and those anecdotes, and moments of history are captured in Vermiglio. Also, the manner in which the drama and conflict unfurl is naturalistic, slow beats that play out over four seasons. The weight of our protagonists’ problems doesn’texplode but rather builds. Names, characters, information, nothing in this film is easily consumed or obviously curated. Rather, Maura created the illusion that this world exists, and we, the viewer, are merely invited to observe it. Much like in her first feature, Maternal, Delpero examines themes of motherhood and how conservative faith serves to compound societal pressures. Yet, no direct fingers are ever pointed. In this story there are no villains, no clear answers, and no resolutions. Even the men, whose decisions sometimes come with stark consequences for these women, are presented as complex products of their environment. Dino is fiery, angry, but perhaps rightly so. He is also dutiful, and kind to his little brothers and mother. Cesare is a creature of intellect, unable to bridge the gap between himself and his wife. She longs for education to better herself. His decisions may seem uncaring, even cruel, yet conflictingly, this is then presented as something baked into his being. As Adele mourns the loss of their infant, Cesare watches from his doorframe, eyes glistening, but unable to connect.
This subtlety of emotion, of those small intimate moments, is spectacularly captured by DOP Mikhail Krichman—whose recent work on The Return has just opened at DIFF. Shots are often wider, still, and take in the movement of a room, of the community. This means that those close-up shots are hard-earned. Krichman observes the starkness of the landscape via a series of beautifully composed series of shots, which might feature only one pop of bold colour set against the whites and greys of the mountains. The cold in these winter moments are palpable, cool blues, visible breath even indoors. It’s evident how the violence of the terrain takes its toll. The visual language shifts then to prosperity—the summer deep colour palette of greens and blues and sunshine amplify the hopefulness of Lucia and Pietro’s romance.
With this film, Delpero has carefully captured the complexity and nuance of the entire world for the Graziadeis: their family home, the animals, farmlife, wells, the church, the school, and the local tavern. The production design is thorough, with attention to detail in depicting a town that is both a physical space and something of a narrator in the story. There are layers that shift with every season. The community is introduced as a place where rituals—like the Saint Lucia festival, celebratory meals, small celebrations—are so ingrained with daily life. This is a world where cabbage is used to cure infants, eating chicken faeces signifies repentance, and the priest’s Confessional is sacrosanct. The soundtrack to all of this is peppered with hymns and celebratory songs, giving solace and tension at key moments.
This film premiered at the 81st Venice International Film Festival, where it won the Grand Jury Prize, and Vermiglio’s bold artistic appeal is obvious from the opening frame. The film runs for over two hours with no definitive arc or resolution, which does make it a challenging watch for a general audience. It’s rewarding too; there’s such power in the stillness. She takes such care to celebrate those tiny but earth-shattering shifts for each character, be it a stolen kiss or taking hold of a report card which represents the devastating end to your education. With Vermiglio, Delpero has solidified her bold voice as a writer, a creator and filmmaker. She once again presents a story that’s thoughtful, beautifully executed and at its very core celebrates the sheer resilience of women and mothers.
Vermiglio is in cinemas 28th February 2025.
