The title “Gomorrah” is at once metaphorically apt and tonally misleading. In referencing the Biblical city destroyed by God for its sinfulness, Roberto Saviano’s best-selling non-fiction posited its own setting, Naples, as some kind of present-day equivalent.
A city ruled and consequently ravaged by the Camorra, the notoriously brutal crime syndicate that has reportedly been responsible for over 4,000 deaths since the 1970s, it is also suffering for its sins — though in this case, the destruction comes entirely from within.
The weightiness of the Biblical allusion, however, implies a fire-and-brimstone subjectivity that is refreshingly absent in Matteo Garrone’s thrilling remixing (adaptation is too cautious a word) of Saviano’s book. Marked alternately — and, in its best moments, simultaneously — by jolting violence, poetic kitchen-sink realism and blacker-than-black humor, this is first and foremost a work of social observation.
As he repeatedly emphasized in his recent Q&A at London’s ICA, Garrone is more concerned with truth than tract. Though the film lays the grim consequences of organized crime bare for all to see, his primary interest is in how such horrors complicate the everyday lives of those who live within and without the Camorra’s snare.
The film’s social consciousness and dense, initially disorienting multi-narrative structure has earned comparisons with such recent crime sagas as “City of God” and “Traffic,” though it’s not as cinematically self-aware as the former, nor as narratively diagrammatic as the latter. (Neither term is meant pejoratively.)
Garrone instead cites neo-realist doyen Roberto Rossellini as a key influence, and this provides a far clearer reference point: Garrone may have far busier story material here than exists in “Paisan” and “Open City” combined, but he shares Rossellini’s most academic qualities as a filmmaker, patiently following his characters through everyday domestic exchanges, and noting the physical and social textures of his story world with an anthropologist’s eye. In doing so, he further mines territory initially opened by such works as “The Sopranos” to offer up the least glamorous Mafia film ever made.
Viva Italia, is all I have to say. In the past 48 hours, I’ve been lucky enough to see the two films that have widely been heralded as marking a renaissance for the Italian film industry, a world cinema titan that had been lying dormant for a couple of years. No more.