LFF 2020: Bad Tales
LFFFew titles are as apt as that of Bad Tales. The sophomore feature from Damiano and Fabio D’Innocenzo is a nihilistic black comedy that explores the dark underbelly of suburbia – this is anything but a beautiful day in the neighbourhood. Their follow-up to 2018’s Boys Cry operates like a grim fairytale, trading whimsy for something far more sinister. A literary device sets up this story, with an unseen – and possibly unreliable – narrator finding a girl’s diary; confusingly, he says what is about to be presented is “inspired by a true story that was inspired by a lie that wasn’t very inspiring at all.”
On the surface, this assessment could be true, with the narrative taking place in an unnamed and unremarkable Italian town during the summer holidays. Over the course of a few months, however, the dysfunctional nature of the residents is slowly revealed, mapping their trauma onto their children. The Placido family are the starting point, with Alessia (Giulietta Rebeggiani) and Dennis (Tommaso Di Cola) being under the thumb of their aggressive father, Bruno (Elio Germano); an early scene shows his over-competitiveness, forcing his children to read out their flawless report cards during a dinner party.
Pietro (Max Malatesta), a friend and neighbour, is the other overbearing patriarch in the area, a loathsome man who barely acknowledges his wife and daughter, Viola (Giulia Melillo); the only moment of connection is a harrowing scene in which the young girl has her hair shaved after contracting head lice. As a result, she wears a black wig for the rest of proceedings, drawing the attention of Geremia (Justin Korovkin), a painfully shy classmate who barely utters a word. Despite his social insularity, he does at least have a positive relationship with his father (Gabriel Montesi), a boisterous yet well-meaning fellow who dearly wants the best life for himself and his child.
Running at a brisk 98-minutes, the D’Innocenzo’s place faith in the disconcerting atmosphere, hoping that it can negate the somewhat aimless narrative. As these vignettes play out, there’s rarely an indication about where the whole thing is headed, but the oddball nature makes for an intriguing watch on a moment-to-moment basis. There’s subplots regarding homemade bombs, influential teachers and rat poison, but they never coalesce into something meaningful, resembling something closer to shock value. This stems from the lack of perspective at the core of the film; the narrator, who comes and goes, is never given a clear identity, whilst the scattered structure blunts the more harrowing scenes. As the film progresses and gets bleaker by the second, the D’Innocenzo’s grow more contemptuous of their characters, piling on the misery to the point where it becomes wearying.
Even if Bad Tales doesn’t fulfil its potential, the atmosphere created is alluring throughout, with Paolo Carnera’s deft cinematography accentuating the slightly off-kilter world. Scenes in the daytime have a hazy quality, the camera being far more personal as it sticks close to its characters. Conversely, a distance is maintained for the evening and night time, presenting the whole neighbourhood as complicit in the perverse actions of the few; a scene involving a family dinner is particularly effective, the camera staying stationary to connote a sense of voyeurism. Ultimately, it’s hard to tell if the D’Innocenzo’s are revelling in the misery or trying to implicate the audience in this tragedy, but like the characters at the centre, there’s intrigue buried beneath the flaws.