The Gospel According to Ciretta (Caroline von der Tann, Italy/Germany, 2024), International Competition, 9-7 20:00 Moscow Cinema Blue Hall, 12-7 12:30 House of Cinema Grand Hall
Ciretta has been "in love" with the Mother of God since he was three years old. The eponymous hero of Caroline von der Tann’s documentary The Gospel According to Ciretta, a bright-eyed and streetwise young man from Naples, sells lighters and chocolate and uses the money he earns to make figurines of the wounded Virgin Mary and the crucified Christ, so that he can organize a church celebration. In the film, which seemingly has no beginning or end, Ciretta can walk along markets, and just on the spur of the moment, break into song, adding a light Neapolitan tune to the musical din in the city’s narrow streets, and suddenly the song can be picked up by an unknown craftsman, just sitting nearby.
There is a certain duality in the playful spark of Ciretta’s eyes. At times, he can seem like both an innocent child and a cunning street thief at the same time. Is he doing all this in honor of Virgin Mary or out of necessity, because he has learned that he will soon be evicted from his attic? Saint or sinner, in the eyes of Ciretta they’re mostly the same — in that sense, it’s no coincidence that he recalls the repenting murderer, whom Jesus gave absolution on the cross. Von der Tann gradually reveals how this outlook on life may stem from the many hardships the young man has endured in his life. For instance, he doesn't know his father, but knows for sure that his mother, a practitioner of the "world's oldest profession", received at least 20,000 lira right before the moment of his conception. The director conveys the making of a contemporary saint in the unique endless flow of the lazy everyday routine of this colorful Italian city. And Ciretta's song does not die out until the very end of the credits, because, as he himself insists: "This is the real Naples, so it can never end."
Sona Apresyan/Artur Vardikyan
Ciretta has been "in love" with the Mother of God since he was three years old. The eponymous hero of Caroline von der Tann’s documentary The Gospel According to Ciretta, a bright-eyed and streetwise young man from Naples, sells lighters and chocolate and uses the money he earns to make figurines of the wounded Virgin Mary and the crucified Christ, so that he can organize a church celebration. In the film, which seemingly has no beginning or end, Ciretta can walk along markets, and just on the spur of the moment, break into song, adding a light Neapolitan tune to the musical din in the city’s narrow streets, and suddenly the song can be picked up by an unknown craftsman, just sitting nearby.
There is a certain duality in the playful spark of Ciretta’s eyes. At times, he can seem like both an innocent child and a cunning street thief at the same time. Is he doing all this in honor of Virgin Mary or out of necessity, because he has learned that he will soon be evicted from his attic? Saint or sinner, in the eyes of Ciretta they’re mostly the same — in that sense, it’s no coincidence that he recalls the repenting murderer, whom Jesus gave absolution on the cross. Von der Tann gradually reveals how this outlook on life may stem from the many hardships the young man has endured in his life. For instance, he doesn't know his father, but knows for sure that his mother, a practitioner of the "world's oldest profession", received at least 20,000 lira right before the moment of his conception. The director conveys the making of a contemporary saint in the unique endless flow of the lazy everyday routine of this colorful Italian city. And Ciretta's song does not die out until the very end of the credits, because, as he himself insists: "This is the real Naples, so it can never end."
Sona Apresyan/Artur Vardikyan