by Finnlay Dall
Worth: $9.50
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Sara Ciocca, Beatrice Barison, Sonia Bergamasco, Paolo Pierobon, Valentina Bellè
Intro:
… while The Life Apart’s warts and blemishes mainly exist within its backwards moral fable, the actors and characters’ small crescendos within the film are enough to give it a sense of momentum and rhythm it would lack otherwise.
The Life Apart tells the story of young Rebecca (Sara Ciocca), a musical prodigy, who despite being born with a red-raw birthmark on the side of her face, manages to persevere in life. And while the film will please most audiences – with talented performances and a pacifying score from Dario Marianelli (Pride & Prejudice, V for Vendetta) stealing the show – its confusion around what it wants to say or be creates an overall pitchy narrative that’s at times too sharp and at others too flat.
Receiving nothing but love from her father Osvaldo (Paolo Pierobon) and a supportive and vested interest from her Auntie, the well renowned concert pianist Erminia (Sonia Bergamasco), it’s a wonder that Rebecca’s mother Maria (Valentina Bellè) is worried about her being ostracised at all. But it becomes clear fairly early on that Maria’s overprotectiveness of her daughter is less to do with the insecurity of others and more to do with her own shame. Suffering from postpartum depression over the birth of her child, Maria, whether meaning to or not, tries desperately to crush her daughter’s self-esteem. Luckily, Rebecca is protected from that thanks to the generous tutelage from her Auntie Ermina and her strong friendship with young Lucille.
At least that’s until her mother, driven to despair, commits suicide the night after Rebecca finally decides to stand up for herself. It’s a death that haunts the young girl for the rest of her teenage years. And when she uncovers Maria’s journal, Rebecca begins to question her own sanity as unverifiable family secrets are brought to light. Nevertheless, through all the turmoil, betrayal and loss, classical music and her piano always manage to pull Rebecca back from the brink and give her the strength to keep moving forward.
Three actresses play Rebecca through the decades, Sara Ciocca specifically delivering a suitably prodigious performance. Her intimate and tender relationship with her Auntie Ermina really is the main heart of the film, as Sonia Bergamasco supports the actress wholeheartedly, giving her all to be the surrogate mother in Rebecca’s life. Their long walks and Erminia’s often sage advice feels refreshing to the ears; a genuine warmth comes from her every word that might otherwise have felt saccharine when read at face value. Their relationship as auntie and niece becomes a homely layer of hope that pierces through the rather cynical filmgoer, who’s ready to see yet another bland film about generational trauma.
Marianelli’s composition is also greatly appreciated, as many of the classic performances in the film are great pieces to lounge in, allowing audiences to soak in the piano’s timbre. Yet, that’s also why most audiences will be left yearning for more. As outside of the piano playing in The Life Apart, the rest of the score is sparse and underwhelming, even if it complements the film; unobtrusive and cohesive certainly, but rather uninspired given the material that the film’s own characters are grappling with.
But that’s not the composer’s fault per se, as it might just be the result of Marco Tullio Giordana’s overall lack of direction. Limp may be a good feeling for a piano player’s wrist, but for a plot like this one – which, given the subject matter requires care, intrigue and most of all, clarity – is an unfortunate misstep on the director’s behalf.
Rebecca is told by everyone around her to value her birthmark. After all, her condition is what makes her special and ultimately what should give her strength as a woman. Those who say otherwise in the film are revealed to either be deeply disturbed individuals or cruel people constantly protected by those in power. And as Erminia tells a young Rebecca the story of the Dwarven Servants – a group hired by a noble to keep his daughter from feeling like an outsider – it’s made clear to us that Rebecca should neither feel ashamed nor try to hide from her mark; as trying will only hurt her in the end. However, in a sudden turn to magical realism and the reveal that Rebecca’s nightmares are more than just hallucinations, Giordana undoes a fair amount of the goodwill it spent the last two hours building from its audience’s sympathies. Rebecca’s mark was already a fairly simplistic stand-in for any real condition or disability, but for Giordana to turn around and use the condition as a way of getting his fairytale ending, turning her disfigurement into a punishment for her parent’s sins, is an incredibly insulting note to end on, which makes you wonder why that was even a decision for him to make in the first place.
But while The Life Apart’s warts and blemishes mainly exist within its backwards moral fable, the actors and characters’ small crescendos within the film are enough to give it a sense of momentum and rhythm it would lack otherwise.
