More than 20 years after the film, the eight episodes of the series on Disney+ enact the story of a free community, updated and enriched
21 important years in gender politics have passed since Ozpetek’s film The Ignorant Fairies, which inaugurated Rome’s Ostiense district terrace in 2001, a gathering of a family ready to break every rule, multicultural, linguistic and sexual. Other times, but without exaggeration, 2001 was the year of opening to the next and now we have lowered the social shutters: the raft that used to sail calmly is now in the storm of reaction winds, see abortion question. But the director drew scripts from it with his usual friend Gianni Romoli and the usual producer friend Tilde Corsi, a series in 8 very colorful episodes for the Disney platform, capable of certain cheekiness and notoriously open to LGBTQ + issues.
The episodes are partly directed by Ozpetek himself and partly by his historic and faithful assistant Gianluca Mazzella and enriched by a new beautiful very old theme (“Throwing Love”), a gift from his girlfriend Mina, a well-known gay icon whose voice could not be missing. The poetics remains that of the Turkish director in Italy: the story, amid a thousand doubts and nuances, melancholy and joy, a free community to which a naturally homosexual couple has been added and REMOVES the role of a terminally ill patient with AIDS. A lot of time has passed and the menu has been enriched, but the famous meatballs are still delicious and there are many crickets and talking parrots; we marry civilly and argue uncivilized, a trans person has to fight against the provincial oppression of the family, but overall it’s better for the individual than yesterday, worse for the community.
‘Cause there are some dissonant voices, like Serra Yilmaz’s, unconvinced that all of these advances are real and that new marriages aren’t just copies of straight marriages while there are still homophobes out there thrashing it. Full of rhythm and bickering, sounds and noises, feathers and tears, even full of gay salamelecchi, full of very typical language and humor (sometimes risking mannerism), the series works in the transversality of its options, from the prevailing sentimental ones, up to the others, so as not to appear completely outside of the real world. However, he takes a risk, as does the film, Ozpetek’s first success with Buy and Accorsi.
The start follows that of the other fairies, and has always been the somewhat improbable part of the story: the protagonist Michele, the intense Eduardo Scarpetta, the last representative of the glorious family of artists that unites his family with the De Filippo, meets at the bookstore where he fights for a book of poems of Turkish Nazim Hikmet, handsome married Luca Argentero, available immediately. In fact, a relationship is born, despite the woman-to-be, not only in time, really pregnant: very good Cristiana Capotondi, also perfect in the metamorphosis that follows and in the collection of the stickers of existential doubts. But a brief love affair, her husband’s homo causes a motorcycle accident, even as Michele, who is painting scenes at the opera house, has time to pitch his conquest to the table gossip, which greets the straight trans fugitive with some suspicion as he admires the loot. After his death (but every now and then he reappears as a good spirit) the circle of gossip opens up, first the misunderstandings, then, when the wife finally finds out that her husband had a male lover, doubts begin to arise as to whether she really wants him After all, and a mysterious mutual feeling, the woman feels a strange attraction to her rival and her friends at De Filippi.
This is where the story gets jagged, stop and go Amidst all the friends who gather around the table and live in the same house, even with three older graces, the three Marys, who chatter at the entrance about who enters and leaves the house (they were also in the film, but were cut at last ). So all a soft whisper of rivalry, jealousy, sweetness, remorse, remorse (a mixture like meatballs): first the two women (perfectly Ambra Angiolini and Anna Ferzetti) fight out of jealousy, then the two boys (including Filippo Scicchitano, who is it deserves to be beautiful on occasions like this) find the civil courage to marry with jubilant families and friends while Paola Minaccioni suffers for love, grandiose in her banal loneliness, but she, too, settles down thanks to the tranny. And last but not least comes Serra’s grandson from Istanbul, the macho Burak Deniz, who falls in love platonically but not with Capotondi and takes her on a romantic vacation to the Bosphorus, risking a hug at the end.
Very good actors, starting with Scarpetta although he doesn’t have the phisique du role that his great-grandfather’s farces have in his DNA, instead filling the character with the shadows and suspicions of a long loneliness, while it’s almost unnecessary to speak of Serra’s psychosomatic perfection, never so partial what In the finale he tells a painful and unprecedented love story. And as always, the elegant and witty Carla Signoris in Crozza, versatile and nice here too, even if she tries to ruin the party a little, but despite being an old friend of generals, in the end her bourgeois voice joins that of the proud. Of course, the film is all about Ferzan and his coordinates (there are the paintings he himself painted in the past), including reading the coffee grounds entrusted to the unsuspecting Milena Vukotic as an apparition to match Elena’s Remembering Sofia Ricci in the group of the seduced, married and abandoned. The series, even in its inevitable iterations, lies precisely in the double experience, real and cinematic, of the director, his privileged terrace in whose house everyone feels protected, has the keys and everyone does their part, rekindling their love and his Stove.
June 22, 2022 (change June 22, 2022 | 11:11)
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