Caterina in the Big City - The Atlanta Journal-Constitution movie review

Cultures clash in 'Caterina in the Big City'

By ELEANOR RINGEL GILLESPIE
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

On the surface, "Caterina in the Big City" is like "Mean Girls," Italian-style. But it's much more layered than that. Director Paolo Virzi uses high school as a satiric metaphor — for Italy in general and Rome in particular.

Caterina (Alice Teghil, delightful), a happy, enthusiastic 12-year-old, is uprooted from her small seaside town and transported to Rome when her father, Giancarlo (Sergio Castellitto), a pretentious school teacher, finally lands a job in the big city. The move lands Caterina at a posh high school dominated by two warring factions.

Empire Pictures

'Caterina in the Big City'

B+

The verdict: An offbeat Italian comedy with a satiric bite.

Director: Paolo Virzi
Starring: Alice Teghil, Sergio Castellitto, Margherita Buy, Antonio Carnevale, Federica Sbrenna
Run time: 106 minutes
Release date: Jan. 1, 2003
Language: Italian with English subtitles
Rating: Not Rated

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Official movie site

On the one hand are the girls who wear black, talk about Prague surrealists and attend protest marches with their parents, who comprise Rome's intellectual elite.

On the other are the snobby daughters of high-ranking politicians and other power players. They have long shiny hair (usually blond), squeal and jump up and down when they're excited (which is almost always), and like to shoplift as long as Daddy's limo and chauffeur are there for a quick getaway.

A typical exchange between the rival groups goes something like this:

Goth Girl: "You're a bimbo."

Spoiled Brat: "At least I wash my hair."

Country girl Caterina is virgin territory, so to speak, and ends up spending time with both sides. And learns very different but equally painful lessons.

But at least she learns something. That's not the case with her father, who, like some overgrown seventh-grader, desperately wants to belong to the "right" cliques. Basically a buffoon, Giancarlo treats his lovely, long-suffering wife, Agata (Margherita Buy), with disdain. Ever eager to blame his failures on someone else, he elicits this ironic response from her: "I know. Work. Marriage. Us. We were your downfall."

Of course, Giancarlo is his own downfall, with his boorish manner and simpering social climbing. Roberto Benigni would've played the part for pathos. However, Castellitto, while he lets us know just how pathetic this man is, shows us his impossible side, too. The smarmy smile. The fawning body language. Followed by over-the-top outrage that he's been ignored — which, frankly, is giving himself more credit than he deserves; usually, he isn't even a blip on the radar of those he seeks to impress.

Tellingly, the other fathers we see — one a famous writer, the other a famous politician — are almost pals. They're on different sides of the cultural divide, but both know it's all a game. In a sense, they belong to the same party — the one that knows how things work.

Something poor, pitiful, self-important Giancarlo will never ever understand.