Written by Andreas Babiolakis

Maura Delpero’s Vermiglio is the kind of international release that is clearly meant to feel like a new-era cinematic fable of sorts. It is narratively stripped down, conceptually enriched, and given the necessary character development and traits to craft a personable experience that is applicable to different viewers in different ways. Partially a depiction of the comforts of life and how the movement of others’ paths leads to the disruption of harmony (for those who don’t wish to change, nonetheless), Vermiglio takes a basic integration of an outsider — an army deserter who stumbles upon the titular, tiny town hidden in the mountains — and attempts to cause a shakeup of perceived order.

The deserter, Pietro (Giuseppe Di Domenico), is taken in by Vermiglio’s local schoolteacher, Cesare (Tommaso Regno) and his large family; an obvious allegory when it comes to passed-down information and instilled values (particularly because Cesare and his wife have an astounding eight children). Pietro isn’t the first deserter to be taken in to this expanding family, but he does fall in love with one of Cesare’s daughters: Lucia (Martina Scrinzi). However, Pietro is shielding a dark past that will cause further uncertainty with his newly-found family and solace.

While an emotionally connective film, *Vermiglio* does occasionally feel weighed down by the amount of story it wishes to tell versus how much it manages to actually convey.

I find Vermiglio to be a gorgeously shot film with aesthetics that overtake every other element of the film. While I do think that Delpero has some interesting ideas with Vermiglio, I do think that the film’s story is both a bit too slim and too scattered with detail. If it is meant to be a Neo fable, it aims to tell too much story in order to get its points across. On the other hand, if it was always meant to be a complicated, thorough affair, Vermiglio is a little too simplistic to achieve this either. The end result is still a good one, but it renders Vermiglio a bit scattershot: bits of story hemmed together by its main characters and the primary settings that feel like snippets of something far more substantial.

There’s enough going to allow Vermiglio to move you and cause you to chase after what your answers to the film’s central themes are (how would you approach certain scenarios, for instance), but I also felt like the visuals, performances, and story all washed over me, only to keep going completely past me by the time the credits were rolling. I felt all of Vermiglio and was left with very few memories of it to go by; Vermiglio is commanding in the moment but too spread-apart and not solidified to stick with you once it is done. The film should have either been a fable or a detailed character study; it doesn’t fully succeed as both despite the promise we do get in a pretty-good end result.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.