L'Incidente

L'Incidente is an interesting character study that evokes questions in one's morality, in doing business, relations to the overall economy, and how that circles back to the power of family.

There is quiet power in Giuseppe Garau's show-don't-tell hour-long feature. However, attempts at heavier dialogue would have directed stronger sentiments and a deeper level of understanding. As it shows now, L'Incidente feels like a cinematic bring-your-child-to-work day.

Giuseppe Garau cleverly sets a stationary camera in the passenger's seat. We are watching Marcella drive. We see Marcella work. The sun rises and sets. And, at times, that single-shot display becomes monotonous. The hour ticks by in a repetitive fashion. Yes, we come to understand Marcella and her plight. Garau teases thoughts about the economy in silently questioning why Marcella would seek this work. But he leaves those thoughts unanswered.

Marcella is driven. The viewer is along for the ride. But it would have been nice if we could at least control the radio.

Slamdance FF 2024 Greetings again from the darkness. How do we react when it seems the world is conspiring against us? Do we seize the opportunity to cheat the system if it means gaining an advantage that has eluded us? Does it matter if we are a kind and gentle person just trying to stay afloat? Italian filmmaker Giuseppe Garau delivers a film that offers one set of answers, while asking other questions, and reminding us that there is always a price to pay when our decisions skirt the bounds of ethics.

Marcella (a wonderful Giulia Mazzarino) is a stressed-out woman. Separated from her husband, the demands on her time cause her to be late picking up her daughter and ultimately losing her job. She possesses what we used to call a doormat personality - one who just seems to get walked on and taken advantage of at every turn. In hopes of digging herself out of a hole, Marcella goes into debt to purchase a used tow truck. Unprepared for the backlash from fellow "rescuers", things turn ugly as her truck is vandalized and she is assaulted. Her claim that Italy is a "civilized country" clearly doesn't apply to all citizens.

Mr. Garau's unconventional storytelling is accompanied by an even more unconventional shooting style. Much (probably three-fourths) of the movie is shot inside the truck cab with the lens aimed at Marcella's profile. We as viewers are literally riding shotgun on her daily adventures. We have such empathy for kind Marcella ... right up until the tone changes. An opportunity pops up and she can't resist, despite knowing this crosses a line of morality that she would have never previously dreamt of crossing. Does this decision prove her mettle, or does it cast her in a true light? We want people to be inherently good, and when they prove they aren't, we can't help but be disappointed. However, in Marcella's situation, we (and she) can't help but wonder if these actions are forgivable ... until the moment we (and she) know they aren't. It's a terrific thought-provoking film with one of the best final lines you could ever ask for. The film won the Narrative Feature Grand Prize at Slamdance 2024.