A courageous film, experimental in its own way, which thinks and wants to make you think. Roberta Torre is not afraid of anything, and she is to be congratulated. The review of My hair hurts by Federico Gironi.
A film in which a woman with serious neurological problems, played by Alba Rohrwacherhe identifies himself with Monica Vitti and, what’s more, he also begins to dialogue with her (and with Alberto Sordi!) remotely, through the images of his films. What could possibly go wrong? Everything, or almost. However, a lot.
And instead, My hair hurts (and no, this historic joke has somehow become a symbol of the couple’s cinema Antonioni/Vitti it is not repeated here) works, and it works well, thanks to how Roberta Torre he manages to control the film and his actors.
We meet Rohrwacher’s Monica on the beach of Sabaudia, in winter, already lost.
He suffers from a rare disease, la Korsakoff syndrome, we will find out. It causes amnesia, personality changes and the construction of false memories.
For this reason, perhaps, when he accidentally comes across a DVD of the Night, she convinces herself that it is her, that Monica there on the screen, and begins to replicate her jokes, her clothing, her hairstyles. More and more, with references to ever-changing films: The eclipse, Red Desertbut also At midnight the pleasure patrol goes, My love help me e Stardust.
Does the doubt, however, creep in ferociously in us who witness this identification, and then the truly impossible dialogues between these two Monicas? Is what happens really the fault of the disease?
Because if Monica is in Sabaudia, and not in Rome, in the house on Via Archimede mentioned at a certain point, it is because her husband is in big financial trouble, he has debts, and he is forced to sell that house. And why that husband is so patient and affectionate even in the face of his wife’s apparent follies, played by Filippo Timiperhaps he cheated on her often and willingly.
The point, then, seems to be another.
The impression is that My Hair Hurts is a mysterious and theoretical film on the power of cinema, which allows escape from everyday life, self-annihilation, projection of ourselves into other lives and other worlds which, even when we are conscious, and not sick, and present in all respects to ourselves, they always allow some form of reinvention.
As if from that contagion of the imagination a contagion of being and of consciousness also derived.
Roberta Torre is not afraid of anything.
Not even to lend, in a couple of scenes, to the somewhat obtuse criticism of those who will say “but they’re not ashamed Rohrwacher e Timi to make a fool of and make a fool of in front of Saw e Mastroianni?”. She is obtuse, because that’s not the point. And because in what the two protagonists of My hair hurts they do everything but disfigure.
Roberta Torre he is not even afraid of committing one of the greatest sins, it seems, of contemporary cinema: the one where everything must always be explained to the spectator, who must not even be left with a doubt.
And instead: who is that lady that Timi talks to every now and then? What exactly is going on in this couple’s life? Above all: what will happen to Alba R.’s Monica after the last shot?
This will not be Antonian incommunicability. It won’t be cryptic hermeticism. But, it certainly is proof of the desire, intention and practice of proposing a cinema that thinks, and that wants to make people think. Which is not content to stay within the edges, but which, without baroqueness or arrogance, overflows – and perhaps makes mistakes – due to the desire to try something new, the result of a reflection, a theory, an experimentation.