La Chimera: Alice Rohwacher’s Tomb Raiders and the Inability to Let Italy Rest in Peace.

Having spent sixteen of my nineteen years of life living outside of my home country, Italy, I am what my mother likes to call a ‘diluted’ Italian. Despite my familiarity with the culture, fluency in the language and biyearly visits, I cannot seem to fight off the strong sense of alienation I feel whenever I return to Italy. This inherent detachment which comes as an inevitable consequence of the very privileged and multicultural life I have lived so far causes me to be more easily and openly critical of Italy. My perception of its contemporary state is a frequent topic of discussion amongst my parents and I, who unlike me have lived and vividly remember Italy’s glory days. Now, while I do not feel a close connection to my Italian national identity, I do wholeheartedly recognize the artistic, literary, historic, architectural and culinary richness Italy possesses and cannot help but feel proud when someone expresses their affinity for the elaborate culture of my country of birth. However, when I consider both my fresher perspective of the country and my parents’ memories of the Italy they enjoyed, I cannot help but think that present day Italy, which I arguably view as being duller and not nearly as avant garde as it once was, continues to live and prosper merely due to its past, undisputable greatness. This perception of mine is something my brain periodically returns to, especially now with me being in Italy for the summer. Hence, during one of my most recent viewings of La Chimera (when I was not fixated on Josh O’Connor in his linen suit) I could not help but notice the several formal and narrative cues that signalled Alice Rohwacher’s similar stance on the subject matter. 

Rohwacher’s playful period piece, La Chimera, centres on Arthur, an English archeologist who becomes intertwined with a group of Italian tombaroli (tomb raiders) specialised in the scavenging of Etruscan artefacts. Whilst his band is driven into this life both by the redemption from work and the unattainable prospect of easy wealth, Arthur’s journey through Tuscany is motivated by his hopes of finding his long lost Beniamina, cleverly circling back to the film’s tell-all title which directly translates to ‘the impossible dream’. Putting La Chimera's outstanding themes of romance and moral guidance aside, spectators are posed the challenging question “of how we bear the weight of the past while living in the present,” and although personal and existentialist food for thought can undoubtedly be extracted from Rohwacher’s preposition, La Chimera’s filmic composition strongly hints towards Rohwacher’s disappointment with the socio-cultural structures of modern Italy and the debilitating nostalgia that spreads amongst the country’s older generations. 

Rohwarcher wastes no time in engrossing her audience within an envelope of carefully crafted sensory experiences, she instead manages to and frame her sociological concerns within the first few seconds of the film. La Chimera begins with a clip of the sun kissed Benemina fragmented by a shot of the sun filmed from the window of a moving car. She soon returns onto the screen to deliver the metaphorical yet lucid line: ‘ti sei accorto tu che il sole ci segue’ (‘have you noticed the sun is following us’). Despite its  coherence with its accompanying visual matter, the line transcends its contextualisation within the scene when its subtext is considered. The line is the first spoken in Italian, preceded by a couple of remarks made by Arthur in English, causing the audience to quickly associate Beniamina as an extension or signifier of the country. Though this strays slightly away from film analysis and fits better in the realm of literary analysis, the line performed can be understood as alluding to the idea that Italy remains under the spotlight and the attention of foreigners due to its notorious and scattered culture; working simultaneously to establish the film’s thematic foundation and advising primarily Italian spectators on the international attention the country attracts and should want to upkeep. 

As the film unfolds, we are introduced to Flora, Benemina’s elderly, waning mother who lives in a dilapidated countryside home and is cared for by her foreign maid named Italia in exchange for singing lessons. Upon meeting her, spectators learn that Flora is an eloquent English speaker, as she converses fluently with Arthur in his mother tongue. Attributable to the language’s omnipresence, Flora’s proficiency in English sets her apart from the other Italian characters encountered in La Chimera thus far, depicting her as an avant-garde and progressive character even at her advanced age. When considered alongside Flora’s affinity for music, her classic Tuscan residence, and maternal relationship to Benemina (La Chimera’s initial emblem of Italian culture), Isabella Rosellini’s character is recognized as a personification of Italy’s “economic miracle” era, a period between 1945 and 1960 of swift modernisation during which Italy prospered economically by virtue of its industrial, infrastructural and artistic rebirth. However, whilst Rohwarcher’s decision to dungeon the wheelchair bound Flora in her dreary home and drape her in dull coloured clothes cinematically affirms her declining health, Rohwacher’s careful orchestration of the filmic elements transcends its foremost purpose and simultaneously alludes to the looming demise of Italy’s glory days and the values that embodied the era. Flora’s daughters on the other hand, personify a later generation of Italians who reaped the benefits and privileges of Flora’s Italy by having lived through and savoured Italy’s financial and cultural heyday, yet now remain reminiscent and dormant when faced with the harsh reality of a more sombre Italy. When juxtaposed with Italia's equally thorough and socially charged characterisation, Flora’s and her daughters’ role in La Chimera are further substantiated. Despite her Portuguese descent, Italia repeatedly displays her esteem for Italian culture including her constant correcting of Arthur’s broken Italian, her efforts in learning opera techniques, her dismay when confronted with Arthur’s culturally and historically exploitative job, and even simply her name. Ultimately, it is her dedication to caring for the ailing Flora which consolidates her symbolic significance within La Chimera’s introspective cinematic world, as Italia’s commitment to keeping Flora alive and well epitomises the greater respect, admiration and curiosity foreigners feel for Italian culture in comparison to the country’s natives, implying that it is solely due to the superficial image outsiders hold of Italy that it is able to maintain its illustrious reputation. 

To extrapolate further meaning from Rohwacher’s allusive social commentary, Arthur and his group’s profession as tomb raiders, must be subject to similar textual analysis. Though the bunch of tombaroli are not necessarily assigned individual allegorical roles, they arguably function as a whole to affirm La Chimera’s thematic salient point. Simply put, the tombaroli’s job entails locating, entering and stealing from Etruscan tombs across Tuscany, so as to salvage remains and later sell them to art dealers. Putting forth the concept of being entirely dependent on the past to operate in the present. As the banda is predominantly composed of Italian characters, Rohwacher subtly accuses Italians of being instigators of this phenomenon, tracing this behaviour to their nostalgic tendencies towards Italy’s days as the sustainer of a cultural monopoly. Nevertheless, Arthur, the British group leader is indisputably the one who benefits the most from the grave robberies. A greater implication of his privileged position as a foreigner amongst the Italian nationals references the idea of tourists inevitably profiting enormously from Italy’s ostentation of its history in terms of augmenting their cultural capital; unveiling the dilemma of whether efforts exerted into curating Italy’s “contemporary heritage” is of any relevance or necessity considering ours and the worlds’ infatuation with the country’s monumental past. Furthermore, it is through Rohrwacher experimentation with the upside down camera movement, which when executed emulates the optics of a “mirror reflection from above” reminding viewers of the film’s ruminative and critical objective and nudging them to partake in an active and contemplative spectatorship.

Although my reading of La Chimera as a socially and politically backed text is strongly tainted by the personal experiences and perceptions I hold of Italy rather being supplemented by a closer consideration of the more general food for thought Rohrwacher intended to offer, I believe La Chimera serves as a testament to the versatility and adaptability of cinema. As it is through one’s deliberation on the various themes, characters, filmic elements and narrative arcs Rohwacher generously offers us that one can decide its significance and establish an intimate or holistic connection to the work being consumed. 

Filmography:

1. La Chimera (Alice Rohrwacher, 2023).

Works cited:

1. Chang, Justin. “The Enchanting Archeological Romance of ‘La Chimera’.” The New Yorker. March 28, 2024. https://www.newyorker.com/culture/the-current-cinema/the-enchanting-archaeological-romance-of-la-chimera#:~:text=At%20the%20art%20of%20%E2%80%9CLa,meaningful%20 difference%20between%20the%20two.

   
   

2. Di Palma, Giuseppe. “The Economic Miracle.” Encyclopedia Britannica. July 20, 1998. https://www.britannica.com/place/Italy/additional-info#history.

   
   

3. Holtorf, Cornelius, and Högberg, Anders. The Palgrave Handbook of Contemporary Heritage Research. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015.

   
   

4. Docalovich, Katarina. “LA CHIMERA is the Underseen Hidden Gem of 2023.” Merry Go Round Magazine. March 29, 2024. https://merrygoroundmagazine.com/la-chimera-is-the-underseen-hidden-gem-of-2023/.