Francesco Costabile’s stunning drama Familia can be scattered and messy, but overall it is a loaded, subtle, and haunting look at domestic abuse.
Writer-director: Francesco Costabile
Genre:
Run Time: 124′
Venice World Premiere: September 1, 2024
U.S. Release Date: TBA
U.K. Release Date: TBA
On its surface, Familia should play out like many other domestic abuse dramas: the cyclical nature of such abuse, the experience of the victimised parent, and the complexity of how it is viewed by very young children. Familia does tick all these boxes, but director/writer Francesco Costabile (Una Femmina) injects a sufficiently terrifying dread to the film too, with a subtle style that makes Familia frequently feel less like a drama and more like a horror film.
Domestic childhood items such as teddy bears, for example, take on ominous tones, far from the innocence and love that such an object should conjure up.
The Celeste family, which consists of mother Licia (Barbara Ronchi, Dogworld), father Franco (Francesco Di Leva, Nostalgia), eldest brother Alessandro (Marco Cicalese, The Equalizer 3), and younger brother Gigi (Francesco Gheghi, Roma Blues), live in Rome. When the boys were very young, Franco’s violent abuse of Licia saw him go to prison. Fast forward to the boys’ early twenties, and Franco returns to the family scene, thus setting off the subsequent drama of Familia. Through these early flashbacks, we see the constant terror Franco inflicted on his family; Costabile never shows too much of the abuse, avoiding sensationalism or gratuitousness, instead opting for subtlety and implication.
Familia works best when it focuses on the domestic abuse at its centre; it is less assured when it looks at its other strands, such as Gigi’s involvement with a fascist group in Rome, and his subsequent 9-month imprisonment for stabbing someone. Whilst experiencing abuse as a child doesn’t obviously lead to fascism, the connection between Gigi’s upbringing and his present lifestyle is an interesting one, but Costabile doesn’t delve into the character’s politics enough. It’s a side story that Costabile seems keen on connecting to the central plot, but it too often becomes sidelined, and at times via this connection, Gigi’s own actions and beliefs seem forgiven too easily.
Where Familia really excels is in its subtlety and its combination of surrealism and realism. Domesticity and everyday family life are injected with a creeping poison at every turn; a game of cards, for example, takes on a dangerous tangent with no warning, whilst a haunting sex scene is shot through with surreal lighting and shadows. Costabile loads conversations with plenty of adroit symbolism, never overegging the domestic abuse nor the fascism of the plot. The inclusions of both feel natural in their inclusion, which only makes them more terrifying to witness.
Familia is largely a success because of the frequent frustration it can make you feel. To an outsider, Franco’s behaviour is easy to remember, but for his family, his constant pleas and assertions to be better make them forget, or suppress, his previous abusive actions. When Licia, Alessandro, and Gigi realise again that the pattern of abuse will not change, it is too late. Costabile’s screenplay, which he wrote with Adriano Chiarelli (Una Femmina) and Vittorio Morni (L’Immensità), might falter in its more topical and political aspects, but it shines in its construction of an oppressive family world, which is so terrifyingly real in its portrayal.
Familia had its World Premiere at the Venice Film Festival on September 1, 2024. Read our list of films to watch at the 2024 Venice Film Festival!
