by Jo Stubbings
Worth: $13.00
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Intro:
… the perfect film to see with your elderly aunt on a chilly Sunday afternoon.
Gabriele Fabbro’s Trifole (Truffles) is the perfect film to see with your elderly aunt on a chilly Sunday afternoon. From the top, we’re lulled into a somnambulant mood by Brandon Lattman’s exquisite cinematography of Italy’s Piedmont region and the nostalgic notes of composers like Respighi and Borodin. Spoiler alert! There’ll be no sex in these leafy parts but there will be an almighty surprise down the track. Just not the type you might expect.
Twenty-something Dalia (Ydalie Turk) is persuaded by her mother (Margherita Buy) to stay with her ailing grandfather, Igor (Umberto Orsini), whom she hasn’t seen in years. Before she even arrives at Igor’s charmingly decrepit home in Alba, the two are at existential cross-roads. Dalia has dropped out of university in London and lost her passion for life. Igor, now living with dementia, has been a successful truffle hunter but is mourning the passing of old ways, steadily eroded by modern society.
They are the quintessential odd couple – Dalia is the symbol of modernity – her smartphone is an extension of herself and her crisp English accent strangely jarring in this deeply Italian milieu. Igor is a simple guy at one with nature: “To love this land means to not be alone. It means that in every stone, in every tree, there’s something of yours.” Dalia resents looking after a grumpy old man, Igor resents her presence. He can look after himself, thanks very much. We just know they’re going to get on like a house on fire.
The two are indeed united by outside forces – Igor’s impending eviction due to unpaid bills and the likelihood of ending up in a nursing home. Birba, Igor’s truffle dog is the fluffy go-between who seals their bond. (Birba is a star. He never forgets a line – and man does he know how to dig!)
Newly versed in the art of foraging, Dalia, along with Birba, sets off to find the great white truffle that occupies Igor’s waking hours. His conviction that this beauty will be found when the rains come and the god Jupiter throws down his lightening on the earth, is infectious. A hefty truffle would solve all his problems.
It’s around here that the story should draw to a dignified conclusion. What follows is a departure from the mood of the film that is so jarring, it may make you want to scream NOOO! Let’s just say that in a bid to give life to the region’s many folkloric tales and superstitions, co-writers Fabbro and Turk unleash a dream/fantasy sequence that threatens to undo all the good that’s come before it.
On the positive side, the cinematography of Trifole is exquisite. Lattman chooses a glowing orange palette that perfectly reflects the autumn of Igor’s life and by extension the end of old ways and traditions. The film glows from the moment Dalia steps off the train, her long red hair blending with the oranges and yellows of remnant forest and vineyards. The orange tint extends to the interior of the home – the tangerine-faded-to-yellow walls, the pomegranates, the open fire, the light shining through the dimpled glass doors, looking for all the world like … little truffles.
Ah, truffles. How good it would have been to learn more about the main character in this film, the mysterious truffle. Still, on a small scale, it gives us some of the most tenders scenes – Igor foraging for these rarities in the forest near his home, washing and preparing them for a simple yet exquisite dinner.
As so often happens in these small domestic scenes, the mundane takes on a peculiar pathos. Watching Igor bathe his faithful Birba, thoroughly, carefully, adoringly, is one of the most moving scenes in the film. This is pure love. This is what life’s about.
Despite the messy ending, a watery hope shines through. Through Igor’s example, Dalia finally gets her hands dirty, figuratively and literally. She does, after all, derive joy from the land, just like her ancestors did. As Igor predicted early on, “You don’t love anything. It will end up hurting you a lot. But you will be fine.”
