Netflix’s The Hand of God – Catharsis That Doesn’t Quite Gel Together

Paolo Sorrento has garnered himself comparisons to Federico Fellini. And just looking at The Hand of God alone, viewers can easily see why. Like Fellini, he has a habit for soaking his films in the ennui of local Italy, the hollowness of glitz and glamour, and the disaffection of some poor schmuck at the center of it all. It’s almost hard to assess a film like this because of the easy, obvious comparisons that could be made. This will definitely work for those looking for a bit of European escapism, but when it tries to get darker, it can almost be too much to bear.

The Hand of God takes place in the 1980s and follows a young man named Fabietto (Scotti) who lives at home in Naples with his father Saverio Schisa (Servillo) and mother Maria Schisa (Saponangelo). He doesn’t have many friends or a lover and wants to study philosophy in college. For the time being, he’s mainly listening to music and watching Diego Maradona playing for his home team, Napoli. His brother Marchino (Marlon Joubert) takes him to acting auditions and sympathizes with his affection for their emotionally troubled aunt Patrizia (Luisa Ranieri). Then, tragedy strikes the Schisa family as Fabietto comes of age in a cruel and brutal manner.

The first half of the film is positively delightful, as viewers are treated to a sun-soaked 80s version of Naples, allowing for perfect opportunities for absolutely glorious sunset shots. The cinematography is indeed gorgeous, as Sorrento know to make his films look absolutely stunning. Beyond that, there is a sense of real joy mingling with an underlying crudeness. Sorrentino has an offbeat sense of vulgar humor that will see all of his characters acting totally cruel and deranged towards one another, yet it is easy to understand why they would put up with each other. It’s a chaotic but oddly intoxicating environment full of the sort of unnerving black comedy that keeps you on the edge of your seat. Add to that the listlessness of long summer nights in Naples where one just have to appreciate the nothingness going on.

However, this makes the second half of the film feel all the more jarring. It turns into a coming-of-age story about an aspiring filmmaker, and a surprisingly dour one at that. Little of the energy that made the first half so engaging remains, making it sluggish and listless in the wrong way. While this could happen in a lot of people’s stories when they are growing up, in this particular case, it does not make for a particularly watchable experience. This film was apparently inspired by Sorrentino’s personal coming-of-age experiences, with Fabietto essentially acting as a stand-in of sorts for the director, but it doesn’t help that, like with this year’s Belfast, the director stand-in is such a blank slate, and the director clearly doesn’t have many interesting things to say about himself. Sorrentino may captures a certain time in place, but it feels limited.

Though The Hand of God sees Sorrentino clearly digging deep in his soul for a moment of catharsis, it doesn’t quite gel together. Its two halves just don’t fit together therefore its emotional through line feels somewhat muted. While there is a lot to admire here, a bit more of a transition between the first half and the second half, could have made it hit that much harder.

still courtesy of Netflix

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Gabe Guarin

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