Italian documentarian Sabina Guzzanti takes a microscopic look at government corruption in Italy with Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi her main target. Frustrated with the political parade surrounding the April 2009 earthquake in L’Aquila and the subsequent utilization of the disaster for political gain, Guzzanti’s documentary Draquila – L’Italia Che Trema (Draquila – Italy Trembles) uses satire to keep the audience engaged in a horror story that left thousands stranded while their homes remain part of the rubble.
Draquila paints an interesting picture of a country bent on self-destruction should it continue down the path as described here. Following the earthquake, Berlusconi is shown not talking of rebuilding, but of using Italian money to build new homes for the more than 80,000 people affected. Consider the size of that number and then realize only 15 firefighters were on hand to help when disaster struck. While a search online will find you several articles talking about saving lives and plans for rebuilding, a year later the city stands empty outside of one lone resident while the rest of the former residents (and anyone else for that matter) cannot go back even if they tried.
Residents of L’Aquila were either fenced into patrolled tent cities or sent to seaside hotels where they are kept prisoner due to a lack of funds. As things slowly progress, select families have been granted living space in one of Berlusconi’s new apartment complexes, which were rushed into construction and come with strict “leave it as you found it” requirements making those living there feel like slaves to a home they feel they can hardly call their own.
The residents of L’Aquila never asked for new housing or expected it. The new housing was offered as an attempt to create new living space for a grander display of compassion on Berlusconi’s part and is assumed by this documentary to be a way to squelch scandals such as alleged affairs with underage girls and Mafia ties. Makes sense since rebuilding a city isn’t as glorious as creating brand new furnished apartments, especially considering Berlusconi allegedly controls the Italian media.
I had never seen a Guzzanti documentary, though Draquila marks her fourth. Reading through the supplied press notes, she was also a comedian and satirical author, both descriptions make a lot of sense as she uses those talents to keep the audience engaged in what was certainly foreign territory for me. As a result, the film works, but with some issues.
Guzzanti has stock-piled negative statistics and pieces of information on Berlusconi and those closest to him and she doesn’t hold back. Admittedly, Draquila makes sense, but my lack of knowledge on the subject limits me in coming to a complete conclusion on Guzzanti’s presentation. As for the film, Guzzanti’s conviction seems to outweigh necessity.
With a running time hovering around 90 minutes, Draquila feels more like 105. There seems to be so much passion motivating Guzzanti she just couldn’t help but throw more wood on the fire. I can understand her desire, and the film still works, but a little tightening of the strings really could have made this a standout effort for anyone. As is, it’s more of a film for those dedicated to the subject matter or those interested in an eye-opening documentary.
Draquila – L’Italia Che Trema (Draquila – Italy Trembles) is an official selection of the 63rd Cannes Film Festival in the Special Screenings category.
