Janjira Gardner Extremely different reactions to "La Sapienza" reflect differences in temperament. Negative criticism tends to remark the film's arty pretension, lack of plot, and pointlessness. It is easy to see why someone might react in this way, because Eugene Green's movies are different from everything else on offer, including so-called art-house films. To say that his characters do not talk as real people talk is exactly right, given that Green's characters speak in the declamatory Baroque style, a style which he has been teaching these past forty years. This mode of speech is so far removed from our daily discourse that it sounds like it comes from Mars. And that's the intention. It forces one to pay attention. It takes time and patience to get used to such talk, but after a little, the unusual diction begins to make sense: it fits Green's symmetrical compositions of objects in space and the stillness that permeates all his films. As to pretentiousness, no. Green is, if anything, modest in his insistence that there is another way, albeit one that appears wildly impractical in our materialistic present. True, his characters incarnate types that reflect ideas which he has been developing, especially since 2001, in print and on film. True, to embody an idea is to be a bit odd. Certainly this approach takes us off the beaten track. However, for those of a particular temperament, that's all to the good. It is not the fault of an English-speaking audience, when they are unfamiliar with Green's ideas. He writes in French, as did Julian Green and Samuel Beckett. However, unlike these latter two, his books have yet to be translated from French into English. Meanwhile, Green's movies aim for evocation. There are no car chases, no shootouts, no femme fatales, no sound-bite dialogues, no CGI, no enhanced sounds, all of which can be entertaining. Instead, there is a universe of the imagination and a particular sensibility that would have us put down our smart phones for a long moment, take a deep breath, look around, and 'regard' (recall that this word comes from French and there lies its meaning) the person sitting across from us. That is to say, to be in the moment, not becoming, but being. After all, 'becoming' will take care of itself. Being, on the other hand, is sometimes missed altogether.

Blaine Dixon Slight Spoiler This film is for all lovers of art house Foreign films But even those might find it challenging. The exposition is unnatural and stilted deliberately. The Director is a French born American citizen. He uses the classical Baroque conventions and conceit of 17th century French theater, think Moliere for example in which characters do not always talk to each other but to the audience and they do not interrupt each other. This way the director conveys his thoughts and philosophy to the audience. At first I was puzzled by this, I do know of Shakespeare's "asides" to the audience (which many Americans are familiar with) so that is something we can relate to, but this was different and extreme. Then I realized that it was a theatrical convention of the director.American conservationists can relate to the protagonist an architect who tries to build an ecologically and human scale development to preserve the ancient beauty of a south of France city and is overruled by the CEO of the corporation who wants the old town torn down, open spaces built over and replaced by flower boxes on the high rise apt balconies! The CEO suggests he take some time off to reconsider his objections. He takes a tour of Southern Switzerland, Northern Italy,and finally Rome. Along the way he and his wife Aliénor meet a young brother and sister. The sister has taken to her bed in illness exacerbated by the young brothers immanent departure for university to study architecture in Venice. Aliénor suggests to the mother that the brother and sister had an unnatural closeness and that might be part of the problem of her illness. This suggestion of incest was not explored or commented on after that so I am not sure what Aliénor meant beyond that.Aliénor stays in Ticino (southern Switzerland) while Alexandre and the brother, Goffredo travel to Rome. Along the way they explore the architecture of the cathedrals and we are treated to a visual and academic narrative by Alexandre which I found interesting and educational.By the end (there are no surprises ) there is a somewhat satisfactory resolution of the characters inner conflicts.

framptonhollis People will call it pretentious, boring, and pointless. Of course they will. Of course. I fully understand this. The film is clearly not for everyone, but I loved it! The stunning imagery of architecture is breathtaking, it really is!The stunning imagery had sold me to this film right away, but the rest of the film is great, as well. Although the film is very light on plot, the dialogue is quite interesting and intelligent (even though it isn't particularly realistic and natural). The characters talk and talk about their pasts, their lives, and their professions. The film went by very quickly, and felt shorter than it's 104 minute running time.Overall, this is one of the best films of 2015 so far, by far.

GeneSiskel How this picture earned 89 on the Rotten Tomatoes scale, I will never know. Except for some routine tourist videos of Italy, there is nothing to recommend here. The characters are stand-ins for ideas. The parts are not so much acted as spoken. The actors are leaden except when they are smiling, which they rarely do, and then they are leaden and smiling. There is a ton of clap-trap dialogue about light, rooms, specters, sacrifice, becoming an opposite, and the like. Death plays a part. I gather that architecture is a metaphor here for film making. An architect's room is a director's camera ("camera" is the Italian word for "room," of course). Light enters both. The architect protagonist's musings about Borromini and Bellini, and the like, are stand-ins for the director's musings about making movies. I am afraid that none of this worked for me. The movie failed to engage, much less to enlighten.