One of the great quandaries of "modern" filmmaking (post-"Bonnie and Clyde") is that audiences demand "realistic" scripts and plots from dramas. Dramatic-comedies can get away with the most outrageous plot failures, while even the most gentle of dramas will be raked over the coals for failing to be realistic.
"Poco più di un anno fa"--which is screening in the U.S. as "Diary of a Male Porn Star"--is one of those films which, I think, has managed to walk the fine line between lack of realism and making its dramatic points.
The plot concerns Riccardo Soldani, a Frenchman whose father clearly favors his older brother Federico. Upon their mother's death, Riccardo flees to Rome, where he becomes a famous (for his good looks, huge erection and sizzling sexuality) gay porn star known as Riki Kandinsky. The film is told largely in two flashbacks. The bookends of the film occur in the year 2014, as some documentary filmmakers attempt to document the life of Riki Kandinsky. The main section of the film is a flashback by Federico, who thinks back to the magical year of 2002 in which he and Riccardo became reacquainted with one another.
In many ways, the film is amazingly unrealistic. Riki seems to be making hundreds of thousands of dollars off porn, when in fact even the best-paid performers (like Ryan Idol and Ken Ryker) make maybe $7,500 per film (and make only a film a year). Riki doesn't escort, yet that is how most gay porn stars make their living. The Italian gay porn industry seems to be huge, when in fact it is nonexistent (except for the presence of Lucas Kazan, who makes only a few films a year). And the set of Riki's films seem to include as many as 15 or 20 people, when in fact gay porn sets rarely contain more then 3-4 people (usually only director, camera, sound and gofer). Perhaps the most realistic film about gay porn is Washington Westmoreland's terrific "The Fluffer."
Yet, all this really doesn't matter much. What matters is the way that Federico--divorced (and not involved in his ex-wife Julie's life, nor that of his prodigy-son Guillaume), locked into a materialistic and loveless engagement to an American bitch of a journalist, and refusing to acknowledge that daddy was an embezzler who left his son nothing but massive debts--desperately reaches out to Riccardo in an attempt to bring his much-younger brother back into the family. At first, Federico can't really even believe that his family estate is falling apart, that his family has no more money, or that Riccardo might be living a life that is worthwhile even though it doesn't involve mega-deals, Mazerattis or silk suits.
Riccardo/Riki's life is stunningly unrealistic as well. Riki has only two friends, the neo-albino woman Luna and the fellow porn star Claudio. He is superbly well-educated, but never went to school. He is an outstanding soccer player, but never practiced a day in his life. He is the ideal "straight-acting" gay man -- right down to the super-stylish modernist home (but without feminine touches).
In retrospect, Federico's downfall (both financial, as he realizes the family is bankrupt, and emotional, as he realizes his idolized father was a crook) and acceptance of Riccardo's sexuality (which includes homosexuality, a porn career, and a "free love"/hippie-lifestyle philosophy) are rather trite storytelling devices. Federico's acceptance of "Riki" comes literally overnight. Within days, Federico is transformed into a high-fashion club-kid who has abandoned his stuffed-shirt ways. This transformation was done so much better in Ferzan Ozpetek's "Hamam (Steam)".
Yet, the acting is just superb. Marco Filiberti, the writer-director-star, is dead-on magnificent as Riki/Riccardo. He has just the right amount of gravitas, philosopher, sex appeal, humor (especially the scene where Federico's fiancee finds Riki's porn films) and compassion to make the character and film work. For a first-time director, AND first-time writer, AND first-time actor, this is nothing short of astounding.
Urbano Barberini is just as good. He brings a refreshing realism to his role, which is just the right counterpoint to the stylized musings of Riki. The writing sometimes forces him into situations that make him seem a bit out of character (why is he so accepting of Luna, when everything that has come before would indicate that he would be defensive and closed off to someone like her?). But he handles every scene with real emotional responsiveness.
The film has its multiple twists and turns, which may throw off some viewers. Early on, you hear Riki admit to having slept with all of four women in his life. Later, we find Riki wanting to adopt the son of a dead local lesbian who "somehow" had a child. This boy's name is mentioned only once: Pietro. For the rest of the film his nick-name--Plapla--is used. Yet, if viewers pay close attention to the prologue, what is the name of the documentarian? Pietro! (It's a secret blatantly given away at the end of the film.)
This sort of surrealism is a bit difficult to handle. It can come off sappy, maudlin, and seem far too pat. But the rest of the film is so good--the acting, the dialogue writing, the ease with which the narrative moves the characters along in their emotional development--that it really doesn't matter.
The film stumbles only toward the end. Riki tries to become a foster father to little Plapla, but of course he fails to gain custody of the child from his maternal grandparents. This strains credulity. How could anyone think that a court would rule that a gay porn star is a fit parent? Even if your view is that gay porn stars are fit parents (and I feel they are), the audience knows full well that no court would ever rule in favor of a gay porn star. This devastates Riki. This plot point seems a bit too contrived for my taste.
The film contains some real musings about the nature of love, marriage, homosexuality and fame. In some ways, the pace of the film is a little off because of some of these lengthy set-piece dialogues. Filiberti is much more effective as a writer and a director when he has regular people engage in these conversations as part of their lives (such as when Plapla's bigoted grandmother confides in she-doesn't-know-he's-a-porn-star Riki, or when Riki gently turns down Claudio's fumbling sexual and emotional advances because he doesn't believe in falling in love and then getting hurt). Audiences may not agree with Riki's belief in loneliness as an acceptable and natural condition, or that love is nothing more than romantic nonsense. But the film is nothing else if not engaging on these points. And since it rarely falls into preachiness, audiences accept this.
The biggest problem with the film is the ending. After Riki loses custody of Plapla, you know that tragedy is in the offing. Riki lies, and tells Federico that he is going home to Rome. But in fact, Riki flies to Paris, is the star player in the Gay Gaymes there and receives the adulation of tens of thousands, then commits suicide in a hotel room that very night. The film seems to be saying that being a porn star and a homosexual is all right with the rest of the world, no matter what your own family or Plapla's grandparents or the family court judge might think. But the film hits you over the head with this conclusion. And the whole segment about soccer and adulation and such is stretches credulity far beyond the breaking point.
"Gone With The Wind" isn't a realistic film about the antebellum South. "Jaws" is not an accurate film about shark fishing. Yet, these films are considered classic, masterpieces even. In many ways, Marco Filiberti has created a film that is blatantly unrealistic in its depiction of gay porn stars and family relationships, but which manages to still convince you that these are real people with real feelings, having real discussions about real philosophical issues. I left the theater thinking, "I wish life were like that." I wish gay porn stars weren't egotistical bean-heads. I wish society treated them like gods. I wish the beautiful people of the world really cared about lesbians and orphans and the poor and downtrodden. I wish some schmoe could waltz onto the Italian gay soccer team and become its captain without having to spend a minute in practice. Okay, so that's not going to happen. But if it did, I would want the world to be like it is in "Diary of a Male Porn Star."
Kudos to Marco Filiberti for writing and directing such a terrific film, to his cinematographer, set designer, costumer and editor for crafting such a beautiful movie, and to his cast for creating a world to believe in.
"Poco più di un anno fa"--which is screening in the U.S. as "Diary of a Male Porn Star"--is one of those films which, I think, has managed to walk the fine line between lack of realism and making its dramatic points.
The plot concerns Riccardo Soldani, a Frenchman whose father clearly favors his older brother Federico. Upon their mother's death, Riccardo flees to Rome, where he becomes a famous (for his good looks, huge erection and sizzling sexuality) gay porn star known as Riki Kandinsky. The film is told largely in two flashbacks. The bookends of the film occur in the year 2014, as some documentary filmmakers attempt to document the life of Riki Kandinsky. The main section of the film is a flashback by Federico, who thinks back to the magical year of 2002 in which he and Riccardo became reacquainted with one another.
In many ways, the film is amazingly unrealistic. Riki seems to be making hundreds of thousands of dollars off porn, when in fact even the best-paid performers (like Ryan Idol and Ken Ryker) make maybe $7,500 per film (and make only a film a year). Riki doesn't escort, yet that is how most gay porn stars make their living. The Italian gay porn industry seems to be huge, when in fact it is nonexistent (except for the presence of Lucas Kazan, who makes only a few films a year). And the set of Riki's films seem to include as many as 15 or 20 people, when in fact gay porn sets rarely contain more then 3-4 people (usually only director, camera, sound and gofer). Perhaps the most realistic film about gay porn is Washington Westmoreland's terrific "The Fluffer."
Yet, all this really doesn't matter much. What matters is the way that Federico--divorced (and not involved in his ex-wife Julie's life, nor that of his prodigy-son Guillaume), locked into a materialistic and loveless engagement to an American bitch of a journalist, and refusing to acknowledge that daddy was an embezzler who left his son nothing but massive debts--desperately reaches out to Riccardo in an attempt to bring his much-younger brother back into the family. At first, Federico can't really even believe that his family estate is falling apart, that his family has no more money, or that Riccardo might be living a life that is worthwhile even though it doesn't involve mega-deals, Mazerattis or silk suits.
Riccardo/Riki's life is stunningly unrealistic as well. Riki has only two friends, the neo-albino woman Luna and the fellow porn star Claudio. He is superbly well-educated, but never went to school. He is an outstanding soccer player, but never practiced a day in his life. He is the ideal "straight-acting" gay man -- right down to the super-stylish modernist home (but without feminine touches).
In retrospect, Federico's downfall (both financial, as he realizes the family is bankrupt, and emotional, as he realizes his idolized father was a crook) and acceptance of Riccardo's sexuality (which includes homosexuality, a porn career, and a "free love"/hippie-lifestyle philosophy) are rather trite storytelling devices. Federico's acceptance of "Riki" comes literally overnight. Within days, Federico is transformed into a high-fashion club-kid who has abandoned his stuffed-shirt ways. This transformation was done so much better in Ferzan Ozpetek's "Hamam (Steam)".
Yet, the acting is just superb. Marco Filiberti, the writer-director-star, is dead-on magnificent as Riki/Riccardo. He has just the right amount of gravitas, philosopher, sex appeal, humor (especially the scene where Federico's fiancee finds Riki's porn films) and compassion to make the character and film work. For a first-time director, AND first-time writer, AND first-time actor, this is nothing short of astounding.
Urbano Barberini is just as good. He brings a refreshing realism to his role, which is just the right counterpoint to the stylized musings of Riki. The writing sometimes forces him into situations that make him seem a bit out of character (why is he so accepting of Luna, when everything that has come before would indicate that he would be defensive and closed off to someone like her?). But he handles every scene with real emotional responsiveness.
The film has its multiple twists and turns, which may throw off some viewers. Early on, you hear Riki admit to having slept with all of four women in his life. Later, we find Riki wanting to adopt the son of a dead local lesbian who "somehow" had a child. This boy's name is mentioned only once: Pietro. For the rest of the film his nick-name--Plapla--is used. Yet, if viewers pay close attention to the prologue, what is the name of the documentarian? Pietro! (It's a secret blatantly given away at the end of the film.)
This sort of surrealism is a bit difficult to handle. It can come off sappy, maudlin, and seem far too pat. But the rest of the film is so good--the acting, the dialogue writing, the ease with which the narrative moves the characters along in their emotional development--that it really doesn't matter.
The film stumbles only toward the end. Riki tries to become a foster father to little Plapla, but of course he fails to gain custody of the child from his maternal grandparents. This strains credulity. How could anyone think that a court would rule that a gay porn star is a fit parent? Even if your view is that gay porn stars are fit parents (and I feel they are), the audience knows full well that no court would ever rule in favor of a gay porn star. This devastates Riki. This plot point seems a bit too contrived for my taste.
The film contains some real musings about the nature of love, marriage, homosexuality and fame. In some ways, the pace of the film is a little off because of some of these lengthy set-piece dialogues. Filiberti is much more effective as a writer and a director when he has regular people engage in these conversations as part of their lives (such as when Plapla's bigoted grandmother confides in she-doesn't-know-he's-a-porn-star Riki, or when Riki gently turns down Claudio's fumbling sexual and emotional advances because he doesn't believe in falling in love and then getting hurt). Audiences may not agree with Riki's belief in loneliness as an acceptable and natural condition, or that love is nothing more than romantic nonsense. But the film is nothing else if not engaging on these points. And since it rarely falls into preachiness, audiences accept this.
The biggest problem with the film is the ending. After Riki loses custody of Plapla, you know that tragedy is in the offing. Riki lies, and tells Federico that he is going home to Rome. But in fact, Riki flies to Paris, is the star player in the Gay Gaymes there and receives the adulation of tens of thousands, then commits suicide in a hotel room that very night. The film seems to be saying that being a porn star and a homosexual is all right with the rest of the world, no matter what your own family or Plapla's grandparents or the family court judge might think. But the film hits you over the head with this conclusion. And the whole segment about soccer and adulation and such is stretches credulity far beyond the breaking point.
"Gone With The Wind" isn't a realistic film about the antebellum South. "Jaws" is not an accurate film about shark fishing. Yet, these films are considered classic, masterpieces even. In many ways, Marco Filiberti has created a film that is blatantly unrealistic in its depiction of gay porn stars and family relationships, but which manages to still convince you that these are real people with real feelings, having real discussions about real philosophical issues. I left the theater thinking, "I wish life were like that." I wish gay porn stars weren't egotistical bean-heads. I wish society treated them like gods. I wish the beautiful people of the world really cared about lesbians and orphans and the poor and downtrodden. I wish some schmoe could waltz onto the Italian gay soccer team and become its captain without having to spend a minute in practice. Okay, so that's not going to happen. But if it did, I would want the world to be like it is in "Diary of a Male Porn Star."
Kudos to Marco Filiberti for writing and directing such a terrific film, to his cinematographer, set designer, costumer and editor for crafting such a beautiful movie, and to his cast for creating a world to believe in.