SANREMO is a horrific, but honest exploration of old age
Directed by Miroslav Mandić
Written by Miroslav Mandić and Nina Robnik
Starring Sandi Pavlin and Silva Cusin
Premieres on Film Movement Plus December 15
by Miguel Alejandro Marquez, Staff Writer
There are very few films about the last season in a person’s life. The multiplexes are filled with action-adventure romps acted by twenty to thirty somethings. There isn’t really a cinematic focus on the last few years of a person’s life. The twenties and thirties of a person’s life have been showcased at exhaustive degree; it’s almost as if all of media is saying that those are the most coveted years of a person’s life. Those years are special, but not the entirety of a life. One must feel sorry for those are older and watch modern media, only to be greeted by plethora of tales suited for the young. It must be depressing, to the say the least.
Sanremo is a film that puts ample focus on every aspect of old age.
Sanremo, a creative effort by writer-director Miroslav Mandić, is a look at the life of Bruno (Played by Silva Cusin), a man who suffers from dementia in an elderly living facility. Bruno spends the majority of his time trying to escape the facility, talking to his adult daughter (who’s trying her hardest to salvage a relationship with a man who can’t maintain new memories), and falling in love with the same elderly woman over and over again.
Great material for a rom-com, right? Or a dramatic comedy? Wrong. Double wrong. Wrong to the max.
The first fifteen minutes of Sanremo is a horror show for the young. It’s a window into the future of all who watch it.
This critic has seen a lot of horror films, but nothing has put the fear in God in him more than the scene of a nurse struggling to feed Bruno. This film, and scenes such as that, are a serious example of the untapped stories that need to be told. This film shows dementia in its most honest form. Sanremo is a film that is completely naked, having no holds barred to its portrayal of the issue. This review is not a condemnation of the other forms of media made about dementia, but one cannot say that this isn’t a film that is more of a grounded approach to the issue.
In this film, dementia is put in a more horrific outlook than previous cinematic entries. Sanremo does this by having it be seen a mundane tragedy to the loved ones, rather than dramatic, pressing issue that rips the family apart. The family drama that could be generated through the daughter has already happened. This film is what comes after the drama of illness, this film shows the malaise of an unproductive existent. It’s an exploration of the silent horror that encapsulates Bruno’s world, and the world of his romantic counterpart.
Even though Sanremo is a serious case study, is it also a slow burn that takes its time with its subject? Yes, absolutely.
Unfortunately for this critic, he has been met with stupendous European indies that keep on hitting the same errors when it comes to pacing. This is not to say that all slow-moving films are bad, but it is a telling of the faults of European cinema in terms of story structure. Europeans, although different, have a harder time nailing engaging storylines than their American counterparts. Although, this film is more justified in its pacing that previous entries. The topic of dementia, and the fact that this film takes place in a nursing facility, makes the pacing an asset, then a serious liability towards the story. And as with the other films previously reviewed, the subtly of the film is also its strength.
Poignant moments are orchestrated though the brilliant direction of Miroslav Mandić, the excellent camerawork by Werner Herzog collaborator Peter Zeitlinge, and the amazing sound design by Francesco Morosini. There are such great moments, especially in the film’s beginning and end, that are expertly crafted by all three gentlemen, the sound design especially. Moments in which Bruno is in his bedroom are giving a certain quality that would be non-existent without the constant sound of the ventilator machine used by Bruno’s roommate. These bedroom scenes especially encapsulate the meaning of Sanremo. They show what the film is truly about.
Watch Sanremo if you want to see a tragic romance, as well as a kaleidoscope of perspectives towards ongoing horror that’s yet to be cured.