by Hudson Moura
Christophe Honoré’s Marcello Mio is an ambitious yet uneven cinematic exploration of legacy, identity, and the shadow cast by iconic parents. At its heart is Chiara Mastroianni, daughter of cinematic legends Marcello Mastroianni and Catherine Deneuve, who undertakes the bold task of embodying her father onscreen. While the film doesn’t fully achieve its potential, it offers moments of striking introspection and homage to the enduring aura of Marcello Mastroianni.
From the outset, Chiara’s transformation into her father stands out as the film’s emotional core and most remarkable achievement. Speaking fluently in her father’s native Italian, she delivers a portrayal that is natural, deeply honest, and profoundly immersive, particularly in her reimagining of Marcello’s iconic roles in Fellini’s 8½ and La Dolce Vita. However, rather than offering an intimate exploration of Marcello as a father, the film shifts its focus to Marcello, the actor, as seen through Chiara’s eyes. This layered interpretation intertwines public perception with personal memory, crafting a narrative that feels more like an homage to a cinematic icon than a deeply personal reckoning.
However, the narrative often struggles to find its footing. While Catherine Deneuve playing herself adds an intriguing layer to the film—offering glimpses into an intimate and complex mother-daughter relationship centered on Marcello Mastroianni—this approach feels underexplored. The supporting cast, featuring renowned actors like Stefania Sandrelli, Nicole Garcia, Fabrice Luchini, Benjamin Biolay, and Melvil Poupaud, all portraying themselves, occasionally feels misplaced. Their roles lack sufficient depth, leaving their connection to Chiara and their relevance to the central story ambiguous. Furthermore, the screenplay’s lack of cohesion hinders the film’s ability to establish a clear emotional arc, making it challenging for the audience to invest in Chiara’s transformative journey fully.
A recurring theme in Marcello Mio is Chiara’s tension with inhabiting her father’s legacy. Early sequences, such as her awkward reenactment of Anita Ekberg’s iconic fountain scene in La Dolce Vita, reveal her discomfort with revisiting her father’s cinematic past. Similarly, a casting scene, directed by Nicole Garcia, where Chiara is asked to channel “more Mastroianni than Deneuve,” highlights the weight of her parents’ towering reputations. These moments poignantly capture the difficulty of living in the shadow of two of European cinema’s greatest icons.
Interestingly, the film doesn’t take an intimate or personal approach to Marcello Mastroianni’s life. Instead, it delves into the artifice of his roles, exploring how embodying his characters allows Chiara to navigate her own identity. While this artistic choice distances the film from conventional biographical narratives, it also limits the psychological depth of Chiara’s transformation. As she inhabits her father’s persona, her own voice is muted, leaving viewers to infer her inner struggles.
Despite its shortcomings, Marcello Mio offers a sense of redemption for Chiara. The film’s title aptly conveys the idea of merging with an idol, embracing their perspective, and finding oneself through their image. The process may lack personal revelations but still resonates as an exploration of legacy and self-discovery.
Visually, the film pays homage to Marcello Mastroianni’s classics, drawing inspiration from Luchino Visconti’s Le Notti Bianche (White Nights) with its melancholic romance and contemplative nocturnal atmosphere—elements Mastroianni so effortlessly embodied. However, this homage gives rise to a peculiar subplot involving a British soldier who embarks on a romantic relationship with Chiara-as-Marcello, which feels misplaced and ultimately diverts attention from the film’s core focus.
Marcello Mio is a daring but uneven attempt to navigate the intertwined complexities of identity, family, and cinematic legacy. While the film’s execution struggles to find cohesion, it ambitiously grapples with the myth of Marcello Mastroianni, offering a fragmented exploration of his public image rather than an intimate reimagining of his legacy. Chiara’s internal journey, marked by her transformation into her father’s cinematic roles, culminates in a profound sense of self-redemption, consummated in the Italian sea—a powerful motif of renewal and reconciliation. Yet, the film leaves an open question as to whether Chiara may one day undertake a similar cinematic journey to explore her unresolved relationship with her mother.