Amira Casar

Set in northern Italy in the summer of 1983, this internationally flavoured drama is a gorgeously nostalgic coming-of-age story that gets deep under the skin. With a career-best performance from Armie Hammer, the film is packed with complex characters and finely observed moments that have huge emotional resonance. And while the central story hinges on sexuality, it's actually about finding the courage to express our feelings.

Hammer stars as Oliver, an American in Italy for his summer internship with author Perlman (Michael Stuhlbarg) and his artistic wife Annella (Amira Casar). And he has an immediate connection with their 17-year-old son Elio (Timothee Chalamet), a smart, inquisitive young man who is initially wary of Oliver's brash American attitudes, then slowly develops a crush on him. Even more terrifying, Oliver seems to feel the same way. But Elio has a girlfriend (Esther Garrel), whose best friend Chiara (Victoire Du Bois) catches Oliver's eye. And as they spend the summer studying, eating, drinking and roaming the beautiful countryside, Elio and Oliver begin to admit their mutual attraction.

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Anatomy of Hell starts off just dandy in a gay nightclub where the techno is thudding as we see "the woman" (Amira Casar) watching her boyfriend make out with some guy. She goes to the bathroom and slits her wrists, only to have "the man" (porn star Rocco Siffredi) walk in on her. He hauls her off to the doctor to get stitched up, they have a nice, tense walk, and after going down on him, she says she'll pay him to come watch her: "Watch me where I'm unwatchable." It's all rather dark and disconnected, but there's an insistent, punishing quality to these early scenes that highlight writer/director Breillat's abilities as a filmmaker. She has a slithery way with the camera - especially in a scene shot from above where Casar sidles across the nightclub dancefloor, grabbing hands and shouldering past the dancing men with a liquid malevolence - which should have made this a more enthralling film. As it stands, though, Breillat lets her talents as a sensual visualist go to waste in the name of sheer agitprop of the dullest kind.

Continue reading: Anatomy Of Hell Review