Aside from its gorgeous, shadow-heavy modernistic imagery, La Notte is, on first watch, such a dense film that speaks to a bourgeois, desire-driven society in early ’60s Milan. What initially presents itself as something almost melodramatic gradually reveals a rich collapse within a morally tiresome marriage one that leaves a psychological scar and demands multiple rewatches to fully wrap your head around its intoxicating existence.
Set against a romantic and culturally elevated backdrop, the film subtly plays with the expectation that these characters surrounded by wealth, intellect, and beauty would have something worth fighting for. But that promise never quite materializes. Instead, wealth and self-proclaimed intellect only deepen the emotional disconnect, creating a world where appearances of meaning replace the real thing.
You’re pierced with the idea that something sacred like marriage can be twisted and used as an excuse to drift through everyday life while remaining entirely self-focused. Yet, as the film unfolds, it becomes increasingly clear that this “sacred” foundation may not have ever truly existed in the first place.
This tension culminates in the relationship between Giovanni and Lidia. Giovanni still claims to love Lidia, but his earlier infidelity driven by boredom or lust undermines the sincerity of that claim, making it feel more like a reflex than a truth. Meanwhile, Lidia longs for something deeper, but it’s something that may have never been there to begin with. Her desire isn’t just unfulfilled it may be rooted in an illusion.
In the end, the film splits itself in two, on one side, a hollow declaration of love and on the other, a quiet recognition that the love being sought was never real. What remains is not resolution, but an unsettling coexistence between illusion and awareness one that lingers long after the film ends.
Aside from its gorgeous, shadow-heavy modernistic imagery, La Notte is, on first watch, such a dense film that speaks to a bourgeois, desire-driven society in early ’60s Milan. What initially presents itself as something almost melodramatic gradually reveals a rich collapse within a morally tiresome marriage one that leaves a psychological scar and demands multiple rewatches to fully wrap your head around its intoxicating existence.
Set against a romantic and culturally elevated backdrop, the film subtly plays with the expectation that these characters surrounded by wealth, intellect, and beauty would have something worth fighting for. But that promise never quite materializes. Instead, wealth and self-proclaimed intellect only deepen the emotional disconnect, creating a world where appearances of meaning replace the real thing.
You’re pierced with the idea that something sacred like marriage can be twisted and used as an excuse to drift through everyday life while remaining entirely self-focused. Yet, as the film unfolds, it becomes increasingly clear that this “sacred” foundation may not have ever truly existed in the first place.
This tension culminates in the relationship between Giovanni and Lidia. Giovanni still claims to love Lidia, but his earlier infidelity driven by boredom or lust undermines the sincerity of that claim, making it feel more like a reflex than a truth. Meanwhile, Lidia longs for something deeper, but it’s something that may have never been there to begin with. Her desire isn’t just unfulfilled it may be rooted in an illusion.
In the end, the film splits itself in two, on one side, a hollow declaration of love and on the other, a quiet recognition that the love being sought was never real. What remains is not resolution, but an unsettling coexistence between illusion and awareness one that lingers long after the film ends.
