Great beauty

Great Beauty , like all great films, shows from the first minutes what the viewer can expect from this work of art. Paolo Sorrentino shows summer Rome as a flourishing, utopian aesthetic haven, untroubled by tourist crowds, sexual passions, waste crises, the mafia, and pollution. Everything from the architecture to the people is stunningly beautiful and well-groomed - the ugliness and mediocrity are hidden and only the most charming aspects of Italian culture remain. The film makes it easy to fall in love with yourself and is a true ode to the eternal kingdom.

I don't remember seeing another introduction as impressive as the one Sorrentino gives to the main character of his film, Jep Gambardella. We meet him celebrating his 65th birthday above the rooftops of Rome at night, and at first glance it is obvious that Jep's life is beautiful, wonderful and good. The cultural journalist, who lives a drastically egotistical and hedonistic life, wrote his only remaining novel at the age of 25, the success of which catapulted him permanently to the top of Roman society. Sorrentino summarizes the personalities of the friends celebrating Jep in an instant – they are each prisoners of their own flat life stories, unable to look at themselves. The intoxicating atmosphere of the party, filled with extremely beautiful guests and performers, and the house music sweep the viewer into a whirlwind of dance, throwing the eternal question into the Roman night: what is beauty?

In Italy, and especially in Rome, there is a long tradition of aesthetics, including in cinema. In Federico Fellini's masterpiece La Dolce Vita , journalist Marcello Rubini searches in vain for happiness and beauty in increasingly luxurious upper-class social gatherings. In The Great Beauty, the news of the death of Jepp's childhood sweetheart sends him on a similar journey through endless soirees, theater performances, art exhibitions, sexual partners, and clothing stores in search of the kind of beauty that inspires him to write his first novel. Jepp is repeatedly asked about a new book, just as director Guido Anselm, the protagonist of Fellini's 8½ , is asked about a new film. Sorrentino continues the path marked out by Fellini and masters the crown jewel of Italian cinema with sovereign control: the whistling of the wealthy elite. When money is not a concern, socialites have nothing to do but ponder whether they should direct a film next, write a play, or just laugh over a glass of ice-cold Disaronno while their friends try the aforementioned.

Jep understands deep down that he cannot find the great beauty he craves by saturating his life with superficial beauty, and so, bored, he complains to his friends who desperately seek Jep's social status. If they dared to ask him directly, Jep could tell them that they would not find fulfillment in heartbreakingly beautiful clothes, the most enchanting buildings in Rome, or endless parties on a sweet summer night on a rooftop terrace next to the Colosseum. But even Buddha had to be astonishingly rich to understand that wealth does not lead to enlightenment.

Masterfully, Sorrentino does not emphasize any point of view, but allows for many interpretations, which is one of the most important characteristics of good art. The viewer can see the work reflecting on the meaning of life and the essence of true beauty, because wealth has not brought fulfillment to the cultural elite of Rome, who relentlessly chase superficial beauty and fast dopamine rushes. They spend all their time getting to know important people, but they do not have a single real friend. On the other hand, the viewer can only enjoy the more delightful works of art, accessories, architectural masterpieces, and the exhilarating tumbling of the cultural elite in their own hyper-aesthetic excellence. The work does not condemn this choice at all, but even offers the great beauty and wonderful life of the time in the final credits.

Jaakko Jokinen is a musician and cinephile who took his wife on a first date to Salpimienta on Fleminginkatu.