Where there’s beauty and light and fantastic cinematography, there’s no content.
While this statement isn’t true for every film — unfortunately, La Sapienza is form without content — or at least complex, interesting content. For the most part, the theme gets lost in an over explanation of the meaning of the word sapience and the concept surrounding it. The devastating beauty of Italian architecture, specifically Borromini, is displayed with such sincerity and creativity that the plot struggles to match the grandiosity of it all.
However, as much as the plot becomes repetitive and boring, moments shine through the monotony. There are points of humor and depth that, combined with the vistas of architectural achievement lit to perfection, create a moving and lighthearted critique of modern cities — and the humanity that builds and inhabits them.
The use of unexpressive dialogue and cardboard acting emphasizes the loss of feeling in a broken marriage between a couple who have very little left to fight for. On a whim trip, purposed by the husband, an architect looking for inspiration. And so they find it, in a protege for the husband and a surrogate daughter for the woman. With this new found respect for their own places in the world, the couple is able to renew the love that once thrived between them.
And everything is hunky dory after that, which feels a little surface-y for a film that attempts to tackle the hugely significant themes disillusionment and wisdom. The deeply moving and masterful use of light, space and angles is so far and beyond the plot in it’s own wisdom of the world, the plot ends up feeling false and temporary — exactly what disillusionment is and wisdom isn’t. A paradox to say the least.
