Critics reviews

Vermiglio’s bold artistic appeal is obvious from the opening frame... With Vermiglio, Delpero has solidified her bold voice as a writer, a creator and filmmaker. She once again presents a story that’s thoughtful, beautifully executed and at its very core celebrates the sheer resilience of women and mothers.

Maura Alpero has based her captivating second feature, a deserving grand jury prize-winner at Venice, on her family’s wartime experiences.

Seasons change, children are born, and hearts are broken. The rhythms are stately and momentous, with Mikhail Krichman’s photography and the director’s exquisite framing reminding us of the medium’s extraordinary capacity for beauty. Filmmaking to die for, and an early contender for the year’s very best releases.

From the intimate restraint of the early scenes, Delpero’s direction becomes more fractured and abrasive. It’s a remarkable work.

The film leaves you sensing you are watching people with a profound attachment to their world, but it does this without a shred of sentimentality or editorialising emotionalism. The simplicity of its storytelling is a treat to watch.

Vermiglio brings us ever closer to the family’s drama, even as human events are dwarfed by the scale of the landscape, with cinematographer Mikhail Krichman often framing people against a vast sweep of snowy hillside or, in spring, a green curtain of distant mountains. You won’t regret the visit.

It’s easy to see why Vermiglio has received praise on the festival stage; it’s a hushed yet effectively emotive drama that’s bolstered with the addition of Mikhail Krichman’s stunning cinematography. Yet sadly, it’s hard to overcome the film’s biggest weakness – the ripple effect that comes from its overcomplicated characterisations.

ermiglio proceeds efficiently as its textured, tactile tone is felt across the snowy plains. Delpero inflamed the lands with her storytelling and image composition... because of its painting-like visual language that speaks louder than words.

Delpero’s consistent and detailed attention to the development of these micro-dramas, alongside Lucia and Pietro’s story, results in a film that is not quite the turbulent romantic drama suggested by the core narrative, but instead a collective portrait of a family in flux.

“Vermiglio” is so devoted to evoking a time and place that much of its subtlety does not become apparent until a second viewing. It is a rich, enveloping film that asks viewers to approach it as if tiptoeing through the snow.

The storytelling is graceful and deliberate. OK, yes, it’s slow—on purpose, for effect.

Delpero drew on her own family’s stories when making the film, and this gives it not only richness but finity. It is bordered by the mountain peaks and the opening and closing credits, by the overarching sky and by thwarted ambition. Mikhail Krichman’s photography is luminous and intimate.