My Brother is an Only Child (Mio Fratello è Figlio Unico)
Be prepared to be gently swept away to mid–twentieth century Italy, in Daniele Luchetti’s latest feature, My Brother Is An Only Child (an adaptation of Antonio Pennacchi’s novel: “Il Fasciocumunista”).
When we first meet him, Accio is a young boy at a seminary, anxiously sublimating his pubescent urges by adhering strictly to rigid religious disciplines. During a visit from his brother Manrico, Accio is given a picture of an Italian screen siren. Manrico tells Accio that the woman in the picture is his girlfriend. This rouses Accio’s latent sexuality, tips him over the edge, and he is promptly expelled from the seminary and sent home to his family who live in a small rural Italian town. The boys’ primal longings for the same girl will remain influential for years to come.
Back home, Accio’s parents have preconceived ideas about what path his future should take. Accio, the youngest of three children, seems keen to differentiate himself somehow, while still yearning for the direction that provide clear guidance on what to think and how to behave.
Subsequently, he adopts as a role model, the paternal figure of a powerful local, who just so happens to be fascist. Accio’s membership into this group provides him with an immediate sense of belonging, status and might: all the things he feels are lacking in his relationship with his family who, significantly, are all communists. In fact, his brother Manrico is somewhat of an activist. Perhaps this is what impels Accio to align with the fascists. Meanwhile, he longs for his brother’s girlfriend – a real one, this time – named Francesca.
Ultimately, this is the story of about a boy becoming a man, and the rites of passage that are involved: sexual awakening, romance (and the differentiation between the two), sibling rivalry, and the overarching development of a moral frame of reference to guide him through the rest of his life. Elio Germano is wonderful as Accio, and the sequence in which Accio transitions from childhood to adolescence is beautifully devised.
This film presents is an intimate portrayal of socio-political life in Italy up to and including the anni di piombo - Italy’s politically turbulent years: characterised by terrorists acts committed by extremists from both ends of the political spectrum. The political underpinnings of the film are interesting, but in no way overbearing.
My Brother is an Only Child is a lovely film. It is a delight to be immersed in the world of these animated Italians, with their passionate views, expressive gesticulations, and melodic language. Luchetti gave the actors considerable freedom (once he had managed to get them to shrug off customary dramatic tricks of the trade), and he did well to present a story spanning decades in a constrained manner, where other filmmakers would have outstayed their welcome.
But this isn’t a political film. Ultimately, it’s a coming-of-age story: a story of romance, and of the inherently conflictive but durable nature of family relationships.
My Brother Is An Only Child flourishes in its Italian setting. The scenery, language, and Franco Piersanti’s evocative soundtrack add to this film’s timeless, Italianate charm.