The Leopard Review: Not Everything Needs a Remake

Despite some beautiful ballgowns and stunning landscape shots, Netflix’s The Leopard cannot withstand the comparison with its predecessor.

Set in 1860 in Sicily, The Leopard starts with the Italian army advancing towards Sicily to unify the Kingdom of Italy. With insurrections running rampant in Palermo, Don Fabrizio Corbera (Kim Rossi Stuart), the prince of Salina, decides to venture into the city to take his daughter Concetta Corbera (Benedetta Porcaroli) home. Don Fabrizio struggles to come to terms with the decline of his social class and the world he once knew. At the same time, his nephew Tancredi Falconieri (Saul Nanni) is ready to take his chances in this new world, as is Angelina Sedara (Deva Cassel), the beautiful daughter of local mayor Don Calogero Sedara (Francesco Colella). Angela has caught Tancredi’s eye, much to the dismay of both Concetta, who had hoped her cousin would return her affection, and, initially, Don Fabrizio, until the latter realises that their wedding might be profitable for all parties included.

The Leopard opens with a stunning tracking shot of the Sicilian countryside. From its very first scene, it becomes clear that one of the Netflix show’s biggest strengths is its evocative and gorgeous cinematography by Nicolai Brüel. I also really liked the way Concetta’s role is explored in the series to analyse the role of women in society at the time and the pressure that is put on the eldest daughter of the Salina family, even if wish her character arc had been less reliant on the love story with Tancredi. Sedara’s character is also expanded upon compared to the original novel, which is refreshing as well, especially as Colella is one of the best actors by a mile in the show, so much so that it becomes a pleasure to see him on screen and I did find myself missing him when he wasn’t in a scene.

Except for a few notable exceptions, namely Porcaroli and Colella who particularly shine in The Leopard, the Netflix show does not particularly stand out for the acting. Most of the performances see the actors struggle to keep up with their predecessors in Visconti’s original. Nanni and Cassel make for an especially disappointing duo; their rendition of Tancredi and Angelica respectively is extremely flat and uninspiring. A lot of the problems with the acting also come down to the lack of Sicilian accents in the show, or rather, lack thereof. It is especially disappointing to see Italian actors seemingly not even trying to make an effort to mimic what is a very distinctive and unique accent for Italian speakers.

It is even more jarring as most of the main cast speaks with certain language inflexions that are typical to the North of Italy, as opposed to the supporting cast, along with Colella, who instead retain their original and authentic Sicilian accent, and sometimes speak in the dialect of the region too. This ultimately hurts the realism of Netflix’s The Leopard for a plot that relies so much on its historical and regional setting.

The script also doesn’t do the show any favours. The writing itself is not particularly brilliant, nor does it reflect the Italian of the time in the original language. On the contrary, the script bears no specificity to the historical or local context of Sicily in the 1860s. Netflix’s The Leopard also seems to gravitate towards the love triangle between Concetta, Angelica, and Tancredi, which is nearly nonexistent in the source material, rather than showing us the historical reality of Sicily at the time. This is a shame, as such a unique story becomes a lot more mainstream and less rooted in the specific circumstances of the time that both the novel and Visconti’s movie highlighted so well. 

There is an overwhelming feeling that Netflix was attempting to create an Italian version of the widely successful Bridgerton with their latest TV show. If that were the case, then The Leopard does not strike me as the right source material for a show that, while rooted in the aesthetic of period dramas, is essentially a romance at its core. But the book – and subsequently the original film – have very little to do with the romance aspect of it all and everything to do with the historical changes in Italy in the 19th Century, a unique and especially important time in the history of the country.

The comparison with Visconti’s version of The Leopard is admittedly not fair, and yet it comes naturally. Not only is the show based on the source material, but it also feels very derivative of the 1963 movie. Those in the audience who are familiar with it will undoubtedly notice that the Netflix series’ soundtrack is nearly identical to that of the film, made up of Italian classical music in which Verdi naturally features prominently. While this is very much in line with the time setting of the show, it does inevitably highlight this version’s struggle to add something to the conversation in this new retelling of the story.

Overall, this newest rendition of Tomasi di Lampedusa’s book ends up feeling like a less well-made version of the original adaptation. This is especially sad if one considers that there are many other wonderful works of Italian literature that such a show could have taken inspiration from, rather than opting for another unnecessary version of something that was already very good to begin with. Even the most fascinating elements of Netflix’s The Leopard, namely the beautiful cinematography and the interesting development in the role of Concetta, cannot make the painfully long eight-episode show worth it.

The Leopard (2025) is now available to stream on Netflix.