Grief as the mother of invention
Nanni Moretti was in the midst of editing his 2011 feature, “We Have a Pope,” when his mother, Agata, died at 88. The Italian filmmaker, who answered his own cancer diagnosis with the award-winning “Caro Diario” in 1993, once again mines his own life to deal with that loss in the comedy-drama “Mia Madre.”
“I wanted my next film to be related to that,” he says through an interpreter at the Toronto International Film Festival. “At the same time, it was always clear that I was not going to be the protagonist myself.”
Moretti does play a part in “Mia Madre,” but it is a supporting role as Giovanni, his heroine’s intellectual brother, the cooler head as he and his film director sister, Margherita (Margherita Buy), cope with their mother’s failing health. Margherita is the standin for Moretti, a woman deeply shaken not just by the situation with her mother but also a troubled relationship with her daughter. Nevertheless, she soldiers on with her new film, a drama about labor unrest in a factory.
“I wanted the story to be told from a female perspective,” Moretti says, “and I wanted to give this female protagonist characteristics that are generally thought of as male characteristics: being neurotic about your work; a certain difficulty in making space for others, even your own mother; and I’d worked already twice with Margherita Buy and I knew we could work well together on this.”
Adding to Margherita’s troubles is her decision to cast an American movie star in her film. But this particular marquee name, Barry Huggins, quickly becomes a thorn in her side. He cannot remember his lines, and she soon questions whether he can even act. John Turturro steals every scene he’s in as the out-of-his-depth actor.
“I didn’t want to take anyone who didn’t have any connection with Italy,” Moretti says. “That is not to say that I don’t appreciate him as an actor, because I do a lot, but I wanted someone with an Italian connection. He’s done a documentary on Italian songs. He’s worked a lot with Italian directors. His parents were from Italy. It seemed like a good fit.
“He improvised a lot. Some of the dialogue is his. For example, there is a scene where he dances. I asked him if he wanted a choreographer, and he said, ‘Leave it to me.’ ”
“Play the character, but stand next to the character as you,” Margherita tells Huggins, a direction that only confuses him more. But it is a notion that reflects how Moretti approaches his craft when it comes to directing actors.
“For me, as part of the audience and also as a director, I don’t like actors who disappear behind their roles, people who completely identify with their roles,” he says. “Those tend to be performances that have a lot of success, but I don’t really like them. I like actors who maintain a little bit of distance in their performances, who act but sort of watch themselves acting at the same time.”
In giving that direction, Margherita is attempting to control what she can’t. She can’t help the obstinate and confused Huggins with his performance by giving him notes he can’t understand. Nor can she do anything that will prevent her mother’s decline and death. Moretti admits that making “Mia Madre” is partially his own futile stab at control.
“It’s an attempt, but unfortunately you can’t put reality in a cage, and actually doing films, even highly autobiographical ones, isn’t therapeutic, because it doesn’t change anything,” he says. “Even if you put your own neuroses, your own tics into your films, it’s not as if that changes anything.”
“I don’t like actors who disappear behind their roles, people who completely identify with their roles . ... I like actors who maintain a little bit of distance in their performances, who act but sort of watch themselves acting at the same time.” Nanni Moretti, director of “Mia Madre”