Paolo Sorrentino, making like an Italian Oliver Stone, rifles through “the Spectacular Life of Giulio Andreotti” (in the words of the subtitle), seven-term Prime Minister rumored to have Mafia ties and blood on his hands, less a character than a caricature in the interpretation of Toni Servillo, jug ears, humpback, hands folded monklike across his stomach, gliding around as unnaturally as Nosferatu. The florid direction is apt to call to mind, more than Stone, early Bertolucci, bestrewn with operatic or at least music-video dabs and splashes. The tangled politics and turbid narrative admit only an air of knowingness and a tone of insinuation, no actual clarity. (2008) — Duncan Shepherd
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