Chiara

At first glance, A Chiara gives the impression of being literal in its symbolism, overwrought in its emotions and theatrical in its gestures, and the title character himself is intolerably bratty in places. However, all of this fits into the intended mix of mafia dramas and coming-of-age films, where both the settings and the characters of these genres are characterised and self-defined by these very attributes. In fact, A Chiara has something in common with John Hughes’s Sixteen Candles, but instead of the usual high-school outsiders, Jonas Carpignano wants us to sympathise with a model rich bitch who, somewhat surprisingly, looks beyond the carefree façade of her privileged life only at the age of fifteen. Thanks to this, however, the director is able to put into play the motif of adolescence as a transition from self-centredness with a black-and-white view of the world to the perception of ambiguity, uncertainty and the search for one’s own path in relation to or in spite of his/her background. The female protagonist, who is problematic at her core and, for some, even unlikable, enables the film to present a highly topical theme involving the idea that we should not judge people based exclusively on their past transgressions and should give them a second chance. Because, in the best case, we spend our whole lives growing up and looking at our own past in a new way. (23.08.2021)

A Chiara fulfils to a tee that little cliché of the successful festival film – a coming of age film, strong female characters applied to an old patriarchal world, naturals in the lead roles, and intimate, subjective cinematography. I don't really have a problem with any of this, and on their own those individual elements mostly work. What's harder, though, is how it works as a whole. This is because Carpignano's film has quite an intense and specific formal method where the camera is permanently zoomed in on closeups of faces. He makes almost no use of establishing shots, nor does he give the viewer a chance to orient themselves in space in any way. At the same time, however, this distinctive approach, which remains unchanged throughout the film, doesn’t correspond to the fact that the plot develops quite substantially and the viewer is clearly required to make an emotional investment. And yet every scene here creates the same mood. After an hour, the static faces against a blurred background arouse doubts as to whether there is any process whatsoever driving them. But I admit that in this case, despite my policy of not finding anything out about films before I watch them, it might help to know that we are actually watching one real family for the entire film. (24.08.2022)