Parthenope

Born in the middle of the 20th century near the Bay of Naples, Parthenope has in common with the mythical seducer not only her unearthly beauty, but also her effect on men. Travelers, pious church ministers and even relatives who have found their way into her networks are ready to cast aside their entire past lives for a sip of insincere carnal love.

That is why all the delights of life easily flow into the hands of a young maiden, like travelers who have not yet realized that they will not get out alive from the arms of a beautiful siren. Overnight, she can become the wife of a billionaire or a successful actress, scientist and even a saint — almost every man she meets is ready to give her any regalia.

For the time being, the girl is quite satisfied with this life, however, the older she gets, the more she feels that the treasures that Naples brings to her feet are not worth a penny. All these riches pale in comparison with the surrounding semblance of paradise. And you can't find answers to questions about what a naked soul is interested in in in a city where fetid slums hide behind the tourist facade.

Paolo Sorrentino, whose childhood was spent in Naples at the height of Years of Lead, has repeatedly confessed his love for his homeland. In “The Hand of God” it appears to be a city of contrasts, welcoming and unsociable at the same time, full of pleasant curiosities and tragic losses. The director has always shown the diversity of Naples, emphasizing its turbulent character and attractive diversity.

“Parthenope” — Paolo Sorrentino's new painting, named after a seductive siren, on the contrary, does not speak very flatteringly of the majestic polis. This time it is separated by an insurmountable rift. The main character lives in luxury, for whom even the resort coast of Capri seems to be painful poverty, but civil war is raging outside this paradise.

Uncalm moods are also transmitted to Parthenope. She enrolls in the Department of Anthropology to understand how anxiety pushes human nature to self-destruct in the name of love and lust. But instead of answers, it reveals what scientists who are trying to solve them understand the least thing about people. While Naples is burning with crime and unbearable poverty, Parthenope is only fruitlessly suffering from higher matters.

The main character's problem is that she cannot love anyone, because any man becomes a submissive slave at the sight of a siren — physical attraction clouds the minds of even the most sincere gentlemen. And the cunning Odysseus, able to outsmart the seducer, float out of her life faster than she can become attached to them.

Naples itself is similar to Parthenope. He is so charming on the surface that anyone who swims by immediately falls under his seductive spell. At the same time, deep down, the city is not empty; on the contrary, it oozes culture and refinement, sometimes even excessive, which prevents it from noticing the simplest problems.

The main character echoes the very essence of the city — a string of insoluble contradictions that captivates, but concealed under its impeccable appearance. Almost every step she takes is accompanied by thoughtful debates about the nature of desire and the incomprehensibility of love. And this philosophical search turns into a lace shell, inside which lives the same eternal longing that eats away at her native Naples.

The girl plunges deep into the fairytale streets, where she rushes between luxury and poverty, stupidity and genius. She wants to become more than just another desirable beauty for the world. But he is held hostage to centuries of heritage: according to legend, sirens fascinate intruders, and Naples bewitches visitors unable to solve their own problems.

After all, the coming-of-age story turns into an ancient myth. Parthenope renounces humanity and turns into a guiding thread that winds through metaphorical trials. It's like she's living her own Odyssey with fairy-tale characters and frightening dangers that she manages to escape from each time, changing roles, places and masks.