Capriccio Veneziano

Are there more tourists who frequent it, or films about morbid sex stories set “in a sad and glossy Venice”?

I believe it’s the latter. And Bruno Mattei didn’t miss the chance to weigh in with his own take, creating a direct-to-video film in 2002, right in the midst of his erotic phase.

As already mentioned, we find ourselves in a sad and glossy Venice, where the painter Lorenzo (Gualberto Parmeggiani) happens to meet Roberta (Emily Crawford, with Mattei also in Belle da Morire), a music teacher—a must for anyone starting a morbid sex story in the lagoon city. The two, of course, begin a heated (I should say morbid, but I’ve already said it several times, and I think it’s clear) relationship, with Lorenzo preferring the teacher over his wife/girlfriend, Anna, played by Ksenija Trbovich, who we’ll see in slightly more significant films.

It’s a matter of taste, but I can’t explain that choice. Just as I can’t understand the point of a film where Mattei “draws inspiration” from Eyes Wide Shut and Nine and a Half Weeks and makes a discount version of them. To put it mildly.

In any case, after 20 minutes of the film, Lorenzo and Roberta are already having sex. Then she hands her boyfriend over to her dear friend Luisa (Juliana Jerrugan), without any impact on the plot, and has fun with her new friend, fighting/screwing, screwing/fighting, with him and some of her friends.

Emily Crawford, by the way, spends the entire film with a disgusted expression, perhaps because she’s stuck with a painter who, rather than a Venetian bohemian, seems more like an unemployed house painter (no offense to the profession, but it’s to convey the idea).

Dear Bruno Mattei reaches one of the lowest points of his filmography, even forgetting that he’s usually capable of making do with the little he has at hand.

In Capriccio Veneziano, nothing works. A long parade of poverty of resources, terrible direction, nonexistent acting, and inexplicable choices. Among the many, it’s worth mentioning the absurd scene with a chroma key that’s supposed to show us Venice through a window.

Then there are also some extras, perhaps unaware they’re ending up in a film, who look directly into the camera, scenes of Venice taken from someone else’s stock footage, and the one where the protagonist, dressed as a man, almost gets into a fight with the gondoliers.

Let’s just say that if it had been a porno and not softcore, it would have had some dignity. Instead, we’re stuck with a restrained film accompanied by omnipresent music, sometimes famous, which I won’t name so as not to associate it with a movie that makes you sad. And not because of sad and glossy Venice.