Liam Neeson goes back to acting with this sweet, if familiar, father/son drama.
Made in Italy should attract attention for a couple of very noticeable reasons. First, the film represents the writing/directing debut of actor James D’Arcy, who for years has put in solid work in titles like Cloud Atlas and Broadchurch. Here he goes behind the camera for a debut turn that shows, if nothing else, an undeniable passion and skill. Secondly, the film stars the great Liam Neeson and his own real-life son Micheal Richardson in the story of a father and son coming together years after the death of the matriarch of their family. There are a lot of factors, from D’Arcy’s time spent on the sets of directors of all kinds, to the real chemistry and history shared by the two leads, which work in the film’s favor. Still, there’s something missing from Made in Italy; the right kind of thread or string or glue needed to make everything hold ad strongly and firmly as it should, amounting to a summer indie effort that ends up being nothing short of a beautifully flawed effort.
Made in Italy opens on Jack (Richardson), the manager of an upscale art gallery in London who is faced with a dilemma: His soon-to-be ex-wife (Helena Anotnio) is about to sell the gallery, which she owns. With no choice and no money, Jack contacts his estranged father Robert (Neeson) and asks him to accompany him to Tuscany so that they can fix up and sell the old house his mother left to the two of them. Reluctantly, Jack agrees and the two set off on a journey which will make them face the past they’ve both been trying to run away from.
I don’t like to bring such a lovely, well-intended film down, but for some reason, Made it Italy should feel more special than it does. Director and stars are all clearly present and interested; it’s just that everyone seems content to rely on the playing out of well-worn themes which have been done far more effectively by plenty of other titles. There’s no surprises to be had anywhere throughout the film. We have a suspicion that Jack will fall for the beautiful restauranteur Natalia (Valeria Bilello), that father and son will begin to soften around each other and then get into another fight which will possibly tear them apart again. All of this is punctuated with endless shots of stunning Tuscany which D’Arcy captures in truly spectacular glory. Even the distant father and son can’t help but pause to continuously marvel at the sumptuous landscape. It’s all well-made, but it’s also been seen far too often in the past; and in much stronger ways. With so many elements here which should indeed work, it’s impossible not to feel a bit sad when the realization hits that this is sadly all there is to this picturesque, yet seemingly hollow endeavor.
If there’s one way in which Made in Italy does try and separate itself from other films with a shared premise is in it’s over-reliance on comedy. It’s true that a good laugh has a real shot at clearing tension; a fact which D’Arcy believes to such a high degree that he’s inserted more comedy than a film like Made in Italy has any right to have. There’s hardly a scene where the characters aren’t meant to either do something funny or laugh at something funny before reverting back to the film’s more earnest tone. True, laughter is just as cathartic as crying, but the humor here is so awkwardly timed and misjudged, that it’s hard do anything other than cringe. When Henry shows up at Jack’s home to tell him about the trip, his father’s first response to the son he hasn’t seen in ages is to call his departing one-night stand by the wrong name. It becomes clear then that the dual tone the film is going for isn’t going to work and that Made in Italy will potentially feel longer than it actually is. The only times the humor actually does work for the film is when it comes to the house in question. Each time no-nonsense realtor Kate (Lindsay Duncan) turns up to inspect the Money Pit-esque property, things go wrong in ways which cannot help but draw laughs, especially when the parade of potential buyers come around, leading to some honestly funny scenes.
I always love when Neeson reminds the modern movie audience that he’s more than just a late-bloomer action hero. As a matter of fact, folks would have to venture back to 2014’s Third Person to see the last time a role called on him to use nothing but his emotions for an entire film. Here, Neeson shows how incredibly vulnerable and subtle his approach to more sensitive, human material can be. The way he keeps Jack as a wounded individual who slowly begins to heal is handled so beautifully in each scene, especially in the soulfuness of Neeson’s eyes. Richardson makes a great acting partner for his more experienced father and keeps Henry’s guardedness very carefully measured so as to not alienate the character fully from anyone he encounters. As for the women of the piece, Belillo is luminous and transcendent as Natalia, showing someone who is both a survivor and a romantic, while Duncan manages some great deadpan mixed with unexpected poetry hidden beneath her own character, making her scenes come off lovelier than one would expect.
Even though there is a workmanlike quality here, it’s mainly on the part of a script that doesn’t really feel the need to add anything novel to the family reconciliation sub-genre. That doesn’t necessarily mean there isn’t enjoyment to be had in this admirable debut. As I said, D’Arcy uses his location well and is more than content to let scenes play out in a natural, organic way which gives Made in Italy a sort of free-flowing serenity in keeping with classic European cinema. By the time the film nears its finish, all the cliches, awkwardly-placed laughs and standard bits of dialogue may not have been forgotten, but the sheer pleasing quality of the film is enough to make you forgive them. Made in Italy isn’t perfect; but it feeds the soul and does so by reminding those who watch it that in life, the story isn’t over…even when you think it is.