Defining love is a perilous activity since there is never any clear indication of what it means entirely, or how you can find it without utilizing forcible means. This seemed to be a concept that fascinated Silvio Soldini, whose wonderful Garibaldi’s Lovers (Italian: Il comandante e la cicogna), which is also alternatively known by the title The Commander and the Stork, addresses themes of love through a fascinating and very funny lens. Structured around two separate stories – one of a grieving widower who struggles to move past the untimely death of his wife while trying to raise their two teenage children, and the other a penniless young artist who will do anything to make some money, even if it means sacrificing her artistic integrity by becoming part of the system that he actively criticizes in her work – which then ultimately converge midway through, the film is a bitingly funny and deeply captivating dark comedy that touches on many intriguing ideas, which the director establishes through the solid, well-crafted story that takes us on a compelling journey into contemporary Rome, a city that has always been propelled by the dual impact of historical traditions and societal progress, both sides of the culture being keenly reflected in every moment we spend with these characters. Soldini is a well-regarded figure in modern Italian cinema, and his work is quite poignant but doesn’t lack the perfect calibration of humour and melancholy that makes it so effortlessly effective, something that can’t necessarily be said for a great many films, especially not those with such bold premises. Inexplicably obscure, Garibaldi’s Lovers is an absolute delight, and it is one of the more captivating discoveries of recent years, which is quite an achievement for a film that is promoted as being such a small, intimate examination of several fascinating ideas.

Garibaldi’s Lovers is a film steeped heavily in the art of magical realism, which is one of the more recent developments in contemporary Italian cinema. There is something so endearing about stories of ordinary people who are driven by a sense of enchantment and joy, as well as having an occasionally melancholic tone, which is exactly what we find throughout this film. It is an undeniably well-constructed film with many bold ideas and meaningful details, and all of its material reflects a sense of complexity that goes back to the feeling of uncanny joy inspired by the story. The premise is that this is a love story between two profoundly lonely people, as narrated by the esteemed soldier, politician and historical icon Giuseppe Garibaldi (who describes the events he is witnessing as if he was some all-seeing entity guiding the narrative, which is also reflected in the title of the film) is enough to immediately draw our attention and make it clear from the very start that this is not going to be a film that follows the roles in any conceivable way -, everything we think we know to be true is essentially lost in those first few moments, and our expectations gradually erode as we see that this film doesn’t exist in a world in which logic is a priority. It takes quite a gifted filmmaker to create this kind of meaningful social commentary and still filter it through this specific form of magical realism, one that is not entirely nonsensical, and isn’t preoccupied with the ethereal aspects of the culture, but rather creating a pleasantly absurd, creatively eccentric storyline in which everything is just slightly off-kilter and out of the ordinary, since it allows for some very meaningful conversations in between off-the-wall scenarios, as well as a sense of genuine humour that comes packaged with the tone, which is a perfect combination of peculiar and heartwarming, the exact reason why this film feels like such a success, and one that never feels like it is working too hard to achieve a particular outcome.

A film like Garibaldi’s Lovers can only be effective with the right actors being cast in these roles since this is not a film that would have worked without a firm commitment from every member of the ensemble. Without strong performances, the film would have likely been an unfortunate bundle of wacky scenarios without any depth, which meant that finding the most appropriate actors for these roles was a matter of immense importance. Mercifully, Soldoni had enough credibility to get several very strong actors – none of them may be definitive of Italian cinema as a whole (except Pierfrancisco Favino, who is an undeniably celebrated actor, but his involvement in this film is entirely restricted to his role as the titular character, providing the voice to the de facto narrator of the film, a small but pivotal part that ties the entire film together), but who still have a strong footing within the industry. Alba Rohrwacher, who has been one of the most exciting actors in Europe for nearly two decades, and Valerio Mastandrea are the leads of the film, playing the central characters of the two storylines that gradually intersect midway through, until they become the same, a subtle but very effective approach that ties the film together and gives it such a nuanced, complex sense of complexity that is entirely difficult to ignore, especially in the more subtle moments. Both actors are exceptional, as are supporting parts by Giuseppe Battiston, Luca Zingaretti and Claudia Gerini, who may be objectively far more comedic, but still have the appropriate amount of depth and complexity to make their performances extremely special, even when they tend towards the more outrageous style of humour that this film is actively aiming to subvert in the process, while never entirely dismissing it, knowing that having eccentric characters at the heart of such a story is always a good way to hold up a mirror to society and showcase its shortcomings, albeit in a far more gentle and lighthearted manner, which only adds more charm to this already wonderful film.

The key difference between magical realism which just exists to be peculiar for the sake of it, and the kind that tends to be more complex, is the extent to which it is willing to go to explore subjects outside of its foundational premise. There is a version of Garibaldi’s Lovers that focuses exclusively on the romance between the two leads, but this would not be a particularly pleasant or entertaining film, since it would lose momentum almost immediately, since the reality is that very few works of art can centre solely on the subject of love and be successful, because (taken all on its own), love is a relatively dull and lifeless concept that only comes to life when it is paired with other themes, whether those that relate to the tangible aspects, or the most abstract ideas that we find peppered throughout many similar films. In terms of this story, Garibaldi’s Lovers is as much about these two star-crossed lovers finding each other as it is about the theme of identity, with every character in this film being an outsider in some form, seemingly doomed to exist on the margins of society (since no one is particularly enticing on their own), but who find kindred souls in the most unexpected of places, forming an unconventional bond, which relates to the concept of family, both biological and constructed and how it is important to find those with whom you share common ground. It may sometimes depend on the viewer having some knowledge of Italian culture as a whole, and it is difficult to tell how effective this film would have been without this information (would those who don’t understand who Garibaldi is and his importance realize the impact of having him be the narrator of this story?), which means this is not necessarily a film made for those outside the culture, although it is still wildly entertaining, enough for these culture-specific details to barely be a concern as the film continuously pursues a very distinct style of storytelling throughout the narrative, which touches on some very intriguing but powerful ideas.

There is a warmth that propels this film and makes it so incredibly endearing, which is a difficult sensation to manufacture. This kind of compelling, intimate European comedy, which is simultaneously designed to showcase both the beautiful locations and cultures, as well as the people who populate these spaces, is consistently the focus. Garibaldi’s Lovers offers us a lot of interesting commentary, but it smartly never intends to take itself too seriously. If anything, this is a film that could have benefitted from a more concise understanding of exactly what it wanted to be, since it often feels like the director is throwing out as many bold ideas as he can muster, in the hopes of finding at least one that will form the narrative undercurrent. However, this isn’t the first boldly ambitious film to approach its ideas in this way, and it certainly will not be the last – and we can forgive this slightly jagged storytelling approach when we consider how deeply moving and insightful the film as a whole tends to be. There is an elegance to the humour that is undeniably quite effective, and the comedy is sharp but never excessive, maintaining a level of honesty and charm that is difficult to explain, but which is certainly notable throughout the film. As a whole, Garibaldi’s Lovers is a delight in every way – strong performances, a well-written script that combines humour and pathos, and a heartfulness in terms of direction that allows it to be an elevated, complex glimpse into the minds of two people falling hopelessly in love with one another, defying the odds and proving that sometimes the best stories are those that stretch the limits of plausibility, and instead serve to be irreverent and charming, even if they often don’t make much sense.