There is an idea we’ve discussed from time to time, which is the philosophical concept of “sonder”, which is defined as the realization that every person we encounter in our daily lives, whether in a brief interaction or passing, has their own rich, complex life and we remain only a brief part of it, rarely integrating ourselves into their lives unless its extraordinary circumstances. Many works of art explore this idea, which is especially notable considering we are a selfish species, and our minds tend to be wired to place ourselves at the centre of existence, despite we’re each only one of billions of people currently living. Nanni Moretti is fascinated by this idea since he crafts an entire film around the concept, which comes in the form of Three Floors (Italian: Tre Piani), in which he adapts the novel Shalosh Qomot by Eshkol Nevo, which tells the intersecting stories of three groups of people who all lead their own lives but are united under the fact that they are all residents in the same apartment building at the heart of Rome, and while they may not know each other particularly well, they are connected through this arbitrary connection. The film explores their different dynamics, focusing on each group as they handle different challenges over roughly a decade. This results in a film that contains many of Moretti’s most notable qualities, including genuine compassion for the human spirit and a focus on the power of even the smallest interactions in changing the course of an entire community, in this case, manifested as the occupants of this non-descript building, which proves to be the stage for some thrilling and captivating events that the director weaves together into this lovely, if not slightly ambigious, drama that has an abundance of heart and soul, and only lacks a clear sense of what it intended to say with the material, a mostly negligible flaw we can overlook based on the merits embedded deep within the film.

He may have slightly deviated from it on occasion, but one of the main themes that Moretti has centred almost his entire career around is his family – he has made several films focused on exploring the relationships between people that are bonded together, which often leads to both hysterical comedy and heartfelt drama, depending on the specific tone he intends to convey. Three Floors is essentially a triplicated version of this fascination since it centres on three different families (as well as a few others that exist on the periphery as supporting players in the broader story), and therefore the original novel is very much aligned with the director’s interests. Within these intersecting stories, we find Moretti exploring several themes, mainly relating to familial connections but having a range of other ideas that occur alongside and make the film even richer and more profound. The choice to make this film not as a traditional anthology in which each story was told independently, but rather as a broader series of vignettes that occur concurrently and almost in tandem, turned out to be a terrific decision, since it emphasizes the connections between the main characters, particularly in the journey many of them take from neighbours and slight acquaintances to playing an integral role in the lives of the others, something that Moretti makes sure to draw our attention to consistently throughout the film. It isn’t even restricted to acquaintances since there are some genuinely moving sequences in which we see some of these characters sharing a moment with a stranger, someone who has drifted into their lives as a result of some kind of arbitrary event, but which proves to be far more complex in how it paints a portrait of the deep connections we make when they are least expected. This all leads to the crucial point that the director is intent on exploring more than any other theme, taking note of how one small choice can impact multiple lives, and that sometimes walking away, whether literally or metaphorically, is the best possible option to ensure both the maintaining of own’s sanity and the survival of their family, which we see withstanding many challenges throughout this film.

To bring this story to life, Moretti enlists quite an impressive roster of actors to play the central roles, drawing on several established names in Italian cinema to take on these parts, many of whom he had previously worked with on other films, making this quite a welcome reunion for the director and his colleagues. Riccardo Scamarcio and Elena Lietti portray the happily married couple whose daughter momentarily goes missing after being placed under the care of their elderly neighbour, and once she is found, her silence and the old man’s lack of recollection plunges the parents into a state of despair as they try to determine what happened to their child. Alba Rohrwacher is the newly-minted mother of a newborn who is not only embracing motherhood for the sake of raising a child but also overcoming the crippling loneliness she feels, which is only exacerbated by her husband’s constant absence. Moretti is joined by Margherita Buy as an older married couple whose position as two of Rome’s most distinguished judges comes into play when their son kills a woman in front of their building while under the influence of alcohol. Each of these protagonists is well-developed, with the actors being wholeheartedly committed to their parts, which elevates the film and makes it far more human than just a didactic, overly self-aware realist drama. It’s Buy and Rohrwacher that are the heart of the film, not only because they are given the most focus (with Scamarcio’s storyline also being very important, but not as closely connected to the other two), but also since they’re delivering such emotionally-resonant, poignant performances that are perhaps too good for the film in which they are appearing, by them developing the parts to have more depths than the film knows how to handle, leading to their arcs being extremely moving, but also quite limited. There is not enough time to explore each character in detail, and there are several supporting characters with whom we want to spend more time (such as those played by Denise Tantucci and Tommaso Ragno, both of whom are central to different character arcs, but aren’t developed enough to stand out more than as merely supporting parts), but which the film simply cannot facilitate. The ensemble work is still very strong and makes for quite an effective drama, albeit one that may have benefitted from a more precise approach to how it developed each of its characters.

Three Floors is a film that does earn a lot of deserved praise based on its unique perspective and very meaningful storyline, but this doesn’t make it immune to criticism, nor does it necessarily allow us to dismiss some of its clear flaws. Moretti is a terrific director when he finds the right concept, and he’s often made some tremendous films from the most paltry of ideas. This film is his first (and to date only) adaptation of another work, which essentially means that he was drawn to existing material rather than crafting it himself, which is clear in how slightly impersonal so much of this film feels, and how it comes across as quite prosaic in several scenes, with ideas being lifted from the page, based on how uneven they feel in the context of the film. Three Floors is quite a disjointed film, mainly because it never seems to grasp the right tone, often oscillating between different moods until it finds one that fits the particular scene. Moretti is known to be able to infuse his films with both bittersweet humour and a lot of heartfelt pathos, but this doesn’t quite work in this particular instance, since the themes don’t match the register, leading to some brutally emotional moments rendering as comedic, whereas others that lend themselves to a more lighthearted approach tend to emerge as overly hysterical. The film struggles to find the balance, and it ultimately defaults to being mostly overwrought. One of his flaws as a director is that Moretti will often veer into the realm of the heavy-handed when he can’t quite get the atmosphere exactly where he wants it, which is extremely evident here since there isn’t much space for him to work around these ideas. The fact that this is essentially three separate stories compressed into a single two-hour film means there isn’t much space for detail, and it loses a significant degree of sharpness and precision that has previously been found in the director’s more notable works. Instead, it relies on the emotional inventory, which gradually becomes more intense and overly sentimental as the film progresses, becoming essentially a puddle of overwrought emotions by the time we reach the end.

Moretti chooses to end Three Floors inexplicably, having a travelling band arrive on the street on which this apartment building sits, and having a few dozen Roman locals dance passionately while the main characters look on in awe. This ending would be profound if it was earned and made sense in the context of the film as a whole, but unfortunately, we find that it is merely the director’s way of trying to tie everything together since it was impossible to give every character a clear resolution or conclusion, so the only other option was to embrace the magical realism that had been lingering over the film for the preceding two hours, allowing it to descend into colourful chaos, almost as a means to imply that nothing necessarily changes in the lives of these people. They get older, new relationships are formed while old ones wither away, and we all undertake this challenging journey on our own, choosing companions that lead their own lives, but can offer support and guidance where it is necessary. Three Floors feels like it is halfway successful in being the profound, moving social realist drama it seems to be aiming to be, which is understandable considering how closely aligned so much of this story is to the director’s interests. It simply becomes a meandering bundle of ideas that are admirable in intention and scope, but falter when it comes time to do something constructive, which is not entirely something that the film seems to be prioritizing, at least not as much as attempting to find interesting ways to explore the central dynamics between characters. It struggles to reach a clear conclusion, and it ultimately comes across as lacking cohesion, which undoes quite a bit of the goodwill the film amassed, leading us to feel slightly disappointed by how it promised to be an insightful character-driven drama about the human condition, but where it consistently asks questions more than it offers answers – and even in this instance, those ambiguities do not feel intentional but rather indicate the lack of willingness to put in the work to tie all these narrative strands together, which results in a film with good ideas, but a lacklustre execution that prevents it from reaching its full potential, despite having all the necessary components to be a success.