Gomorra

It’s ultimately more difficult to recall a more frustrating cinematic experience than Matteo Garrone’s Gomorra, as the filmmaker slowly but surely squanders the impressively authentic atmosphere by stressing people and situations that couldn’t possibly be less interesting. Garrone, along with his five (!) co-writers, essentially drops the viewer into the lives of the film’s various characters with little by way of exposition, which proves effective in perpetuating the fly-on-the-wall, documentary-esque vibe that the director is clearly striving for. It’s just as clear, however, that the lack of context grows increasingly problematic as Gomorra progresses, with the inherently baffling nature of the many subplots exacerbated by an emphasis on hopelessly inconsequential happenings (eg a classroom filled with sweatshop workers receives a sewing lesson). It’s consequently not surprising to note that by the time the pieces finally do start to fall into place, the viewer’s interest level has dropped to a point at which it’s impossible to work up any sympathy for the movie’s almost uniformly downtrodden figures. This is despite Garrone’s admittedly strong directorial choices and the inclusion of several unexpected stirring performances, with the latter particularly impressive given the presence of non-actors in virtually all of the film’s central roles. The overwhelming absence of viewer-friendly elements inevitably ensures that Gomorra remains unusually uninvolving for the majority of its overlong running time, as watching the movie is primarily an experience akin to joining an episodic television series in the middle of its run.

*1/2 out of ****