‘Padro Pio Review: Abel Ferrara Directs Shia LaBeouf In A Curious Take On A 20thCentury Saint
You might think that Shia LaBeouf portraying a 20th-century Italian saint under the eternal immigrant bad boy Abel Ferrara is an odd prospect. But this is only the tip of the ambitious iceberg in Padre Pio, which, despite its American star, has no interest in the oft-praised parody plot.
Instead, much of this dark English-language historical work focuses on the struggle of peasants to overthrow feudalism in the immediate aftermath of the First World War. The depiction of this conflict often seems to pass for a low-key production, and in any case, it never matches the unsettling theater of LaBeouf's idiosyncratic, idiosyncratic, semi-improvisational film. While that's a rare misstep compared to the compelling spy story of Ferrara's last narrative feature, Zero and One, it may unsettle fans of his former religion, while confusing Catholic audiences expecting straight-up religious progression. Gravitas Ventures has access to more than 50 US markets.
The real Padre Pio (1887-1968) was a peasant boy who joined the Franciscan Capuchin monastery at age 15 and spent the last half century of his life in the monastic community of San Giovanni Rotondo in the southeastern Italian province of Foggia. Among other philanthropic activities, he founded a research hospital. He was often investigated by Vatican authorities, who were suspected of developing reclusiveness and supernatural powers. These investigations only increased the level of secrecy, which was finally improved by Pope John Paul II in 1999. The following year, Michel Placido and Sergio Castellito starred in two Italian television biographies about him. (Unfortunately, the newly consecrated man himself considers television and cinema to be evil.) Since 1977, the Padre Pio Foundation of America has been his international authority.
This German collaboration opens with a stark depiction of LaBeouf riding a donkey to his new permanent home near the end of the war. When the soldiers returned to a nearby town, some were injured or weakened by the poison gas. But the young mother (Kristina Kiriak) waits for her husband in vain, he does not return and does not seem to be lost. This absence brings him to the unwanted attention of a powerful blind man (Salvatore Ryoko) employed by his country's landowner Renato (Brando Pacito). Leads.
Young revolutionary Luigi (Vincenzo Crea) leads this rebellion, while older Silvestro (Luca Lionello) hopes to turn the tide from within by running for government positions traditionally held by the nobility. When their electoral efforts succeed, the entrenched forces refuse to recognize them. It is dedicated to the protests and massacres, the victims of 1920 (as well as the "Ukrainian people").
This newfound Marxist idealism, the moral hypocrisy of expediency, and class conflict (a priest bribes wealthy parishioners and then blesses a gun that kills his field workers) are familiar from many Italian historical dramas. But despite twenty years in Rome, Ferrara still expresses an outsider's perspective in his projects in Italy. Here, most of the Italian actors stuck to the English dialogue and asked, "Do you know?" This is a rare Murican colloquialism that cannot be avoided. Or worried about what would happen if someone "faked the right sound, for example." While artificiality is a positive contribution to design, it is reinforced by caricature with a sense of preferred roles and limited resources.
There's also the problem that this movie is supposed to be a Padre Pio movie, but never focuses on concept or execution. The real man's occasional political sympathies are discussed (he was somewhat supportive of Mussolini), but not touched upon. Except for one episode where he heals a crippled beggar, that's what happened with him. He rarely interacts with other characters, making his sequences and other stories seem tied to them.
This effect is not diminished by the casting of LaBeouf, who does not attempt to speak with an Italian accent and actually sounds like a 21st century suburban Yankee. When he doesn't utter a single word of theological abstraction, he mostly silently suffers the torment of hell, sometimes screaming and yelling at the naysayers.
It is reported that the actor converted to Catholicism during the shooting of the film. (He also converted from Judaism to Christianity while working on 2014's Fury .) But while the emotion unleashed is serious in its intent, these scenes are so far removed from narrative context that they feel overwrought. Subtle - hysterical in itself. As for Ferrara, he's had mental breakdowns before in films like The Bad Lieutenant and Siberia, but he can't convey it as an inner state, instead a shaky exterior. This is serious filmmaking that at least occasionally engages in deeply committed imagery.
Other disturbing elements include a scene where Asia is a peon telling Argentino to STFU. The soundtrack features some unusual variations, notably a 1927 Blind Willie Johnson blues number and a newer version of Tin Pan Alley Maroon's 1930s version of "Midnight, the Stars and You." Such anachronisms aren't enough to make any clear statements—they're unnecessary words in a film based on little solid fact.
It's candle-warming in most of the interior scenes, though it's one of the director's most impressive visual efforts, and the overuse of the hand-held camera strikes another slightly disconcerting note. Another private chapter in Ferrara's Pio Padre is an engaging filmography that is interesting in its own right. But at this point, the difference between the lead and the performance makes it hard for most viewers to tell what's worth.
