‘VERMIGLIO’: A Poetic Meditation on Isolation and Belonging
Maura Delpero’s ‘Vermiglio’, winner of the Grand Jury Prize at the 81st Venice International Film Festival, is a contemplative and poetic film that immerses us in the rhythms of nature and the traditions of a remote Trentinian community.
With long, sweeping shots of the snow-covered landscape and an unhurried narrative, Delpero vividly brings to life an Alpine village in 1944, where time moves with the rhythm of the seasons, and daily existence is shaped by the land and its demands, all in the shadow of war. To ensure authenticity, she conducted extensive interviews with local people during pre-production, carefully crafting the film to accurately reflect the realities of that era.
Martina Scrinzi in ‘Vermiglio’
In this small, close-knit village, everyone speaks the local dialect, adding to the authenticity and immersing us in its unique cultural setting. The film’s slow, deliberate pace reflects the rhythm of daily life, where people take the same familiar paths, between the school, home, and stables, until these routines feel almost second nature. Through this repetition, we become part of the community, gradually feeling its warmth and its constraints.
Delpero’s use of sound is another striking element. With sparse dialogue, the sounds of nature take center stage. We hear everything: the crunch of snow underfoot, the distant call of an animal, the whisper of the wind through the trees. Each sound is amplified, making the silence feel just as significant as the words that are spoken. Life in Vermiglio is simple, yet it holds moments of joy, hardship, and quiet struggles.
This quiet equilibrium is disrupted with the arrival of Pietro (Giuseppe De Domenico), a deserter who is taken in by the family of the local teacher. His presence unsettles the community, especially when he falls in love with the teacher’s eldest daughter, Lucia, portrayed with subtlety and depth by Martina Scrinzi. Their forbidden love, a direct challenge to the village’s unspoken rules, sets off a chain of events that will alter the course of everyone’s lives. Pietro embodies the outside world, a glimpse of escape and rebellion, yet his presence also forces the village to confront what it has long tried to suppress.
In contrast to Pietro’s story, Lucia’s journey is one of both isolation and resilience. After facing shame and pain, she withdraws from her family home and seeks refuge in the stables, finding comfort in the company of animals. She washes herself with the cows’ water, a gesture that can be interpreted in different ways, either as a descent into despair or as a way to heal by returning to the simple, unjudging embrace of nature. In a world where human interactions are shaped by strict expectations and constant scrutiny, she finds a rare peace among creatures that neither impose rules nor demand explanations.
Giuseppe De Domenico, Martina Scrinzi in ‘Vermiglio’
At the heart of ‘Vermiglio’ is a reflection on shame and societal expectations, especially for women, who often carried the burden of disgrace in ways men rarely did. Children born out of wedlock or without a father were seen as a stain on their mother’s reputation. Reputation was everything, and a single misstep could subject a woman to a lifetime of judgment and exclusion. Delpero quietly but powerfully highlights this injustice, showing how women were expected to endure in silence while men's wrongdoings were more easily overlooked or forgiven.
Despite its heavy themes, the film never feels overwhelming, thanks to moments of humour, especially through the eyes of the village’s children. Their naïve, candid, and playful perspectives offer a fresh take on the village’s rigid traditions. Whether it's the teacher’s son rebelling in small but meaningful ways or a young girl dreaming of continuing her education despite the odds, the children's observations of adult behaviour bring a lightness to the film. They watch, learn, and navigate the complexities of the adult world with an innocence that both softens and sharpens the film’s critique.
It’s a narrative Delpero develops through striking contrasts: between isolation and connection, between vast open spaces and the invisible walls that confine lives. The endless horizon, the towering mountains, and the expansive fields all suggest freedom, yet for those growing up here, especially girls, the future offers few choices. This world, so wide and open, can feel like a prison, a way of life slowly fading. And yet, despite these limitations, there’s an undeniable sense of peace, a deep feeling of belonging to something ancient and unchanging.
Maura Delpero has created a film that is as much an experience as it is a story. Beautiful, immersive, and profoundly moving, it explores the solitude within community, the quiet tension between tradition and individuality, and the deep, often painful connection between people and the land they inhabit.
AFTERTASTE
4.5