La Chimera

The film’s riches come from Rohrwacher’s seemingly inexhaustible wealth of ideas...

Alice Rohrwacher’s haunting, elegiac dram seems like it was lost to the sands of time — and was only just now unearthed for our viewing pleasure.

It stirs up a fierce protectiveness in the viewer. Treasure this now, hold it, turn it, and examine it from all sides, or it may slip beyond your grasp.

Enigmatic, absorbing and so much more alive than any pottery behind glass in a museum, this is an exquisitely crafted, grown-up Indiana Jones steeped in its own distinctive magic.

If you’re in the mood for something original and woozy and riotous and wonderfully special, you will be able to fill your boots.

Yet what the film leaves us with is anything but frivolous. Instead, it asks complex questions about performance and the past — and reminds us that we never know what’s coming next. Quite a feat for a movie so bound up with the dead. 

La Chimera is a beautiful, haunting film, playful and melancholy, deliberately ragged around the edges.

O’Connor’s Arthur has the petulant, reluctant charisma of many a Fellini hero. Indeed, the actor is a revelation. He has the clothes horse allure of a leading man, and the nuance and surprise of a seasoned character actor.

Rohrwacher’s work is as surprisingly playful as it is intelligent and languid. For those willing to go with it, there’s plenty to chew on beyond that sweat-soaked linen suit.

La Chimera is a spellbinding masterpiece that deserves all your attention.