There are few artists who seem to love the sound of their voice more than Nanni Moretti, who has made a series of films in which he not only directs stories that focus on his own individual quandaries as a filmmaker, but also positions himself in the central role on many occasions. However, unlike some of the more notable directors who take such an approach, it seems far more authentic when it is coming from Moretti, who seems to be genuinely intent on working for his acclaim. He is more known for the work that came later in his career, when he was already an established, season industry veteran – but looking back at the earlier days of his filmmaking journey, we can see a radical young storyteller who had the ambition to risk everything to construct a particular film, and the good sense to show the right restraint, meaning that there is never really any sense of arrogance or self-serving pretension underpinning his work. One of his earlier projects was Bianca (alternatively known by the far-less elegant and mysterious Sweet Body of Bianca, which evokes thoughts that go against the very classy, enigmatic nature of the film it is referring to), and while it may lack the nuance of his subsequent films that made him such a profoundly notable filmmaker, and someone who redefined his national cinema in his own unique way, there’s a charm about this film that makes it such a compelling, compulsively-watchable glimpse into the human condition, and a work that requires an audience that was capable of being patient enough to follow the directors often deranged train of thought, which may be difficult at times, but becomes entirely worth it when we reach the metaphysical destination he intends to venture towards, making Bianca a truly exceptional film.

It’s undeniable that Bianca is an acquired taste, especially considering the time in which it was made. Moretti may have evolved into making very sophistication, socially-charged dramas as he aged, but when he was a younger upstart of a filmmaker, his work reflected both his youth and the apparent inability to follow a coherent line of thought, instead focusing on his endearingly demented ramblings that hinted at a range of fascinating ideas, which only tend to become apparent as the film progresses, and its various layers begin to unravel into a gloriously strange expression of pure artistic anarchy. Describing someone like Moretti in such terms is odd, based on his status as one of the more refined figures in modern Italian cinema – but remove the weathered experience, and you find someone who is profoundly rebellious. It’s more than apparent in Bianca, a film designed to be an entirely bewildering experience, and in which we’re invited to traverse the outer boundaries of the human condition, grasping onto the coattails of a director who seems intent on telling this story, despite the fact that he may not even know what the exact point of these meanderings may be. We’re never quite sure where this film is heading (and the director often seems just as lost as us – but in a controlled, structured way, rather than losing the plot entirely), but the sheer amount of quirky humour, and hilariously irreverent understanding of the human condition makes for a worthwhile distraction, and ultimately brings with it a sense of awe-inspiring wonder that makes Bianca a film that can easily be considered a work of magical realism, at least in terms of how it handles some very strange subject matter with poise and humour, enough to justify some odd deviations.

There’s a sense of whimsy that persists throughout the film, so any potential viewer should be aware that this is not going to be a regular, by-the-numbers story by any means. It starts on the genre level – Bianca takes many forms, not being quite a romance (it is far too misanthropic), not entirely a criminal procedural (there is an abundance of incompetence, which prevents any sense of resolution to the central mystery), and its comedy is very caustic and sardonic, meaning that it often comes across as stilted and difficult to understand – but it is in this jumble of ideas that the film really starts to take shape, being the product of nothing but the most beautifully deranged narrative collision imaginable. Once again, one doesn’t normally think of Moretti as an agent provocateur when it comes to dismantling the narrative structure, but in his earlier days as a renegade filmmaker, there was a clear sense of perpetual excitement, almost as if he knew exactly what he was doing going against conventions, and genuinely relished in it. In an era where experimental cinema is a consolidated form of artistic expression, the risks taken in Bianca may seem slight and non-existent. However, it’s clear that the director was fighting against normality in a very meaningful, convincing way, with his intentions (as murky as they may be) making for a tremendously effective exploration of the inner machinations of the human mind. This is a film that works better as a series of abstract vignettes, rather than a coherent story that follows a single narrative thread – and once we can move beyond the fact that not everything in this film is going to make sense, the sooner we can justify its existence, which is a wonderful moment, since it means we can fully surrender to the unhinged madness lurking beneath this well-meaning comedy.

Bianca is a film that definitely won’t appeal to everyone – it’s an endlessly weird film that doesn’t quite know what it wants to be, and seems to be constructing itself as it goes along, which isn’t always the best approach, since it appears to be a work in progress. However, what it does indeed do is provide prospective viewers with something they have never seen before – a strange, unwaveringly upbeat comedy that hits some very bizarre notes in its endeavour to cover ground previously unheard of for a film such as this. It’s not a particularly complex film, being made with a delicate touch that hearkens back to the peak of Italian neo-realism, where a variety of directors captured Rome and its surroundings with a vivacity that has yet to be matched. Moretti may be out of his depth when it comes to being compared to some of the more influential auteurs that inspired him (although he is far from a slouch, having made some remarkable films over the years), but it all serves his audacity perfectly, since there’s a revolutionary tone to Bianca that makes it such a delightful experience. Whimsical and brimming with a peculiar energy, but made with the conviction of a director who genuinely cares about the story he’s telling, this film is nothing short of a triumph, and an absolutely staggering achievement that may inspire confusion more than it does wonder, but through being bewildered, we find a revelatory clarity that we had never even considered before bearing witness to some of the stranger, more hilariously disconcerting aspects of the human condition.