Magnifica Presenza is a delightful film directed and co-written by Ferzan Özpetek. Though sad at times, it has many comedic moments, and many more uplifting ones. It is a tale about endings and new beginnings, about insecurity and confidence, and how the past can touch us even across generations. Also, ghosts.
Meet dorky, lonely Pietro. A humble baker (he only makes croissants) and aspiring actor, he has just rented an old house in Rome’s Monteverde neighbourhood. It’s remarkably cheap, even considering how run-down the place looks. Ignoring the advice of his stern, uptight cousin, Pietro is happy to move in and start fixing things up.
It’s only a little later that he discovers the house is haunted. At first he doesn’t know just what is going on; the ghosts look perfectly normal—no rattling chains, no walking through walls—and are quite harmless. After realising they’re neither burglars nor previous tenants, and also that no one else can see them, Pietro decides he just wants them gone from his house.
But it’s not that easy. The ghosts reveal that they are the Apollonio theatre group, which history records disappeared without a trace in 1943. They seem to believe that they are alive, still living in fascist Italy, and that the war still rages. Whatever happened to them in 1943 (and we don’t find out until the very end), one of their number was missing: the great actress Livia Morosini. They want Pietro to find out if she made it out of Italy alive. Without knowing for sure where Livia is, The Apollonio ghosts can’t leave the house.
So for a while, Pietro settles in with his odd roommates. Apart from a tendency to rehearse scenes in the middle of the night, they’re not too bad to live with: they help him sort through his collection of historical trading cards (he’s still looking for some rare ones), try to cheer him up about his disastrous love life, and give him some tips on acting. One of them, a handsome young poet, takes a fancy to Pietro, and I wondered if the two of them would get it on. And then I wondered if that was even possible. What were the rules of the supernatural in this movie? We’d seen the ghosts interact with the physical world, and they thought they were alive, so…
But nothing happened, just as nothing happened between Pietro and his hunky neighbour, whom he met halfway through the movie. And after Pietro takes the ghosts’ advice just a little too far and bombs a really important audition, his self-confidence is completely shattered, and finally starts taking steps to find this Livia Morosini.
He does eventually find her, and discovers the terrible truth: the Apollonio troupe were anti-fascist spies, using their freedom as performers to travel even across borders to help other resistance fighters. In 1943 they were betrayed to the police, ran back to their house where they were killed. Livia survived, only because she was the one who betrayed them—her only passion was acting, she didn’t care about politics or other people’s freedom. Even now, 70 years later, she does not regret her actions.
The Apollonio actors now have their answer; and it seems they’re finally able to live in the present instead of endlessly repeating the past. They ask Pietro what year it is, and he brings them up to speed on how the world has changed. Yes, Hitler is dead. Yes, Communism is dead. And hey, America has a Black president! The movie ends with the ghosts returning to their old theatre—now abandoned—and performing the play they never got to finish 70 years ago.
Where will they go now? And where will Pietro go? We don’t know, and I think that’s just fine. Pietro had two possible love interests in the movie; it’s still possible he’ll get together with the hunky neighbour but I think that, for him, a happy ending just means the possibility of romance. When the movie started he was in a completely one-sided long-distance relationship, ended only when his stalkee confronted him face-to-face and told him to stay away. The truth hurt, but it gave him the chance to move on with his life. His acting career, too. Sure, he flubbed a couple of auditions, but I like to think the ghosts have given more confidence, enabling him to explore great things.
I admit, I identified with him a lot. The shyness, the nerdiness, the big dreams and the lingering insecurities. On the other hand, a part of me also identified with the condescending doctor who at one point thought Pietro was hallucinating and recommended staying away from auditions, night shifts, anything but a simple, unstressful routine. That’s the part of me that wants me to stay in my comfort zone, to stay safe, to not try. Huh. Thanks, movie! I find it’s useful to externalise the voices in your head. Makes it much easier to give them the finger if needed.
The parallels between Pietro and the Apollonio troupe are obvious, but not heavy-handed. The ghosts are far more than echoes, but they are clearly trapped in the past as well as the house, still in the fine clothes they wore for their performance, unable to change and move on. But once they do move on, we share the joy of seeing the modern world through their eyes. For all its troubles, the world is a better place now than it was 70 years ago.
I should also mention Magnifica Presenza‘s beautiful visuals: the ghosts’ old-time fancy evening dress, Pietro’s food, his funky old house. Incidentally, that makes it two for two Italian movies I’ve seen at the VQFF (the first being Diverso da chi in 2011) that feature some serious food porn. Not that I’m complaining.
Magnifica Presenza is a gorgeous movie in every way: the people, the sets, the language, the messages. Sweet and funny, tragic and hopeful, it is a wonderful start to the 25th Queer Film Festival.