The Inner Cage

The greatest virtue of Ariaferma is its versatile balance between its themes, typical to contemporary italian cinema, and an unexpected freshness in such themes' depiction.

Prison overcrowding is a pressing issue currently being discussed in Italy, yet Leonardo di Costanzo chooses to tackle it through subtraction, not by presenting an overwhelmed jail, but by portraying an anomaly: a penitentiary in the sardinian mountains is due to close down, but the transfer of a small number of detainees is delayed. A group of very few prison guards are tasked to maintain order, despite not having the required resources.

Rather than a prison story, Ariaferma is best described as a human story, a story of reconciliation between two opposite groups, the guards and the prisoners.

Through the self-contained setting, the film examines the difficult coexistence of two groups that normally identify each others as enemies, but that now inevitably are both forced into isolation.

The isolated microcosm is further shut out from The narrative that eventually focuses on two main characters: an old detainee, likely an ex member of organised crime, and the appointed leader of the prison guards. Portrayed respectively by Silvio Orlando and Toni Servillo, it is their confrontation that makes up for the powerful statement of human equity that the film aims at.

Most surpisingly, it is not a story of good versus bad, or of oppressors and oppressed, and herein lies the greatest achievement of di Costanzo's work: the true antagonist of the film is the distance imposed by society on the characters, a distance that in this setting becomes extremely thin. Ariaferma truly manages to maintain the status quo without personifying this abstract antagonist into some character.

Ariaferma is however not a mere depiction of a reality or an emotional reaction seeking film, it is a most cinematic work. The prison's setting, a round cathedral-like structure makes for a very appealing location, the aforementioned rhythm, the palpable tension, the performances all round up for a film that, ahead of being a film about a social issue, is pure cinema, a carefully constructed craft of motion picture.

(excerpts from full review available on comeandreview)

While viewing this film I couldn't help but think of two things.

1) How outerworldly this must look to the public used to Hollywood depiction of jails 2) How well portrayed the reality of certain italian jails is.

Mind you, my mother worked for Amministrazione Penitenziaria (what in the US would be the Department of Corrections) so I spent a very big chunk of my early life in several prisons around Italy.

Prisons in Italy can be very different, but the rule of thumb is "if it's on an island it's bad". Not Alcatraz bad, but you don't expect to find easy inmate in an island prison. The jail in the film is located in Sardinia which is an island, but big, so it's bad but not as bad as smaller insular facilities like Asinara or Gorgona.

Obviously such jails had huge running costs so the italian government did start to shut them down in favour of different - and hopefully more modern - structures.

I've seen the situation depicted in the movie SO many times: prisoners and personnel start to get relocated, the director is sent to another facility and possibly gets back once or twice a year.

Those prisons become some sort of microcosm where everybody, be it inmate, guard, administration or their relatives take part in everyday challenges.

The boundary between good and evil blurs. The fact itself that someone has been really evil (islands used to be the default option for organized crime) vanishes and you end up fishing with a funny guy who has strangled his wife and kids or talking about the best honeys with a very calm guy who could be a friar and instead ordered killing entire families.

What might be unclear is that there's humanity even in a jail and this movie delivers this in such a poetic way all played on a kind of suspence that is so uncommon to see and experiment.

It really doesn't get much better than this.

Director Leonardo di Costanzo outlines a small, large mosaic that pushes us to delve into the maze of the true nature of man, the confrontation that makes everyone prisoners of the same, claustrophobic sense of alienation.

Prison is increasingly proving to be the place where hope is fatally annihilated, affecting both the inmates and the guardians themselves.

Led by the more than excellent Toni Servillo and Silvio Orlando, the two groups find themselves sharing the miserable space in which they find themselves in an even more "close-knit" way, due to a bureaucratic misunderstanding that postpones the event that would have marked a turning point for everyone to an indefinite date.

The "natural" order is increasingly questioned, leading the jailers to comply with the demands of the inmates, while strictly maintaining the necessary physical and moral distances.

All this starts an inner journey which, without revealing more than necessary, leads everyone to open up and recognize their humanity, constantly endangered and apparently buried under the most varied crimes that seem to determine a more than definitive sentence.

A formally flawless title, in which every aspect is enhanced to the fullest, managing in particular, thanks to effective shots, to magnify the apparently small space of the isolated prison, in the middle of the vast valley that completely isolates it from the outside world.

The only flaw I feel to point out is the invasive soundtrack, in my opinion too emphasized in crucial points without a real reason.

But in the end, this is an effective and certainly interesting study of human relationships capable of arousing very strong considerations and revealing, like its prisoners, the most hidden and surprising sides of man.

The Inner Cage (Ariaferma), directed by Leonardo Di Costanzo, is a masterfully crafted film that transcends the boundaries of a conventional prison drama to explore themes of isolation, community, and the fragility of human connections. Set in a nearly abandoned prison, the film follows a small group of guards and inmates as they navigate the blurred lines of authority and survival while awaiting transfer.

Toni Servillo delivers a commanding performance as Gaetano, a stoic and methodical prison guard whose moral compass is tested by the unorthodox circumstances. Silvio Orlando is equally remarkable as Lagioia, an inmate whose quiet defiance and vulnerability bring depth to the story. Their tense yet evolving dynamic becomes the heart of the film, showcasing the complexities of power and mutual understanding in an environment stripped of its usual rules.

Di Costanzo's direction is subtle yet evocative, allowing the stark and oppressive setting of the prison to become a character in itself. The cinematography captures the decaying walls and dimly lit corridors with an almost claustrophobic intimacy, heightening the film's sense of unease and introspection. The screenplay, co-written by Di Costanzo, Bruno Oliviero, and Valia Santella, is both sparse and poignant, emphasizing the humanity of its characters over plot-driven theatrics.

What makes The Inner Cage truly exceptional is its ability to reveal the shared vulnerabilities of its characters, dissolving the boundaries between guard and prisoner. The film's slow pace may challenge some viewers, but it rewards patience with a deeply affecting and thought-provoking narrative.

Rating: 9/10 - A powerful and introspective drama that lingers long after the final frame.

One day aliens or a better iteration of us will discover this, and a Marvel film, then wonder what numbers used to mean.

A good rule of thumb is to watch anything and everything with Orlando or Sevillo, who's acting is so precise you can measure by how many degrees his eyes are softer at the end. Pity the Holly World that never encounters such cinema or awards its statues to more able, if strange sounding craftsmen.

Have you ever come across a crack in an asphalt road, where a flower grows against all odds, far from any other? Of course you have. This movie is that, but for a human bud. We draw lines and then spend the rest of our days doing our best to fill them. When a movie, without using any force on credulity, makes our line a bit blurry, it is all we can ask for. An actually clean mirror.

Sometimes I am so thankful for speaking some Italian. Thank you filmakers and actors for these two hours.