REVIEW: The Eight Mountains (2022) dir. Felix van Groeningen and Charlotte Vandermeersch

In a quick recall game of recent Italy-set films, I think of the equity in blueness between clear skies and the oceans, matched by reliable sunniness and cool nights that allow for men donned in linen material to exist freely on the dancefloors or in alleyways. It could be Call Me By Your Name or The Hand of God, or maybe even The Godfather when formalwear is required for outdoor activities. Life in Italy is beautiful, one can surmise.  The country’s perceived romance and historical glory has made for easy American escapism. But away from the Sicilian sun, The Eight Mountains considers life in preservation rather than fleeting experiences. Coldness surrounds the lives of Bruno and Pietro, who meet each other as boys in a mountainside village of Grana. Pietro and his parents visit the village on summer vacations while Bruno, who lives with his relatives, is said to be the only child left in the soon-to-be-abandoned village. In these two characters, we see how growth, maturity, and permanence play with each other.

After showing intellectual and athletic promise, Pietro’s parents consider adopting Bruno so that he can be given an educational opportunity in the city. Pietro protests against the idea, claiming that Bruno doesn’t want to leave the mountains. Meanwhile, news of the adoption reaches Bruno’s father, who takes Bruno away from Grana to work in the coalmines. The Eight Mountains then follows the characters from 11-year-olds (Lupo Barbiero and Cristiano Sassella as Pietro and Bruno, respectively) through a quick adolescent sequence — in which they see each other briefly at a bar — before arriving at adulthood for the rest of the film. At this point, Pietro (Luca Marinelli) and his father had been estranged for years following. When he hears about his father’s sudden death, Pietro revisits Grana and hears that Bruno (Alessandro Borghi) had been climbing mountains with his father during their decade-long estrangement. “I guess this is what happens to the one who leaves,” Pietro dryly chuckles.

Instead of jealousy tugging for the rest of film, Pietro sticks around to help Bruno build a home per his father’s request, thawing out a friendship that feels like nothing has changed. However, both characters are, and have been, on dividing paths. Bruno, who has not left the area since separating from his own father, is as much of a metaphorical mountain as they come: sturdy, stubborn, independent. Pietro has a more visible transformation; in adolescence, we see cruelness when Pietro insults his father and refuses to rescind it. In adulthood, Pietro is like water. He comes to and leaves Grana in between his own adventures, which include working in a restaurant, residing in Nepal, and publishing a book. If jealousy was an issue for him as a child, it did not seem to be present when Bruno romances a woman that Pietro was seeing and had brought up to the mountain.

When we are first introduced to these characters as children, we see them as victims of circumstance, both in nature and nurture. But as they age, Bruno and Pietro become more autonomous of their future, whether it is on day-to-day tasks or decisions that affect the long haul. Putting these two characters together might feel like opposing forces, but The Eight Mountains is a testament of durability despite the differences or distance. Except for the last scenes, the film isn’t meant for pearl-clutching moments. None of the characters are entirely in the wrong; when we see Pietro grow in self-reflection and curiosity, it doesn’t make Bruno’s steadfast ways as the villain. Though it’s revealed to be harmful to some extent, it’s not to the point where the audience will place a punitive judgment.

The film is narrated by an older Pietro. While he introduces this story as a deeply rooted friendship, we hold faith that he is a reliable source that is above holding grudges. Swedish musician Daniel Norgren’s folksy vocals and accordion melodies on certain scenes emanate a warmth that brings the friendship to accessible ground (it also gives REI-twee vibes, which is a welcome surprise). But even with a shadow of a doubt on the narrative, The Eight Mountains aligns the trajectories of these characters against a greater unknown of fate, emphasized by the grand peaks and endless snowy ground that can overtake any inhabitant on the screen — tourist or native, sandy shores or windy plains, wine stems or broken branches. And it’s true: life in Italy is beautiful.

The Eight Mountains
2022
dir. Felix van Groeningen and Charlotte Vandermeersch
147 min.

Opens Friday, 5/26 @ Coolidge Corner Theatre