Tenderness and solitude are at the forefront of this epic tale of male friendship
Against a calm snow-capped vista of the Italian Alps, two friends come together and stand in silence. They don’t need to speak much. They’ve known each other for long enough that words don’t carry the same value. They part ways once again, for how long neither of them knows, to continue finding themselves and hoping that the other will do the same. Amidst these characters’ experiential subtleties, The Eight Mountains, based on the best-selling novel by Paolo Cognetti, unfolds as a (sneakily) epic tale of friendship and discovering one’s natural place in the world, while making a cinematic statement on the fragility of all living things.
In a moment of happenstance, young Pietro is an only child vacationing in a small village at the base of the mountains. While most of the village’s inhabitants have left, a few families remain, including the last remaining child, Bruno. As they develop a close bond, Pietro is increasingly distanced from his business-minded father, while Bruno experiences the same from his dismissive father. They part ways, with Bruno becoming a surrogate son to Pietro’s father while Pietro struggles to find a satisfying life in the city. Many years go by, and the two have a tragic opportunity to reunite and build a cabin together in the mountains where they met. Despite its two and a half hour running time, the film isn’t abundant with “plot” and “storylines.” It’s a mostly meditative work of visual storytelling by co-directors Felix van Groeningen (Beautiful Boy) and Charlotte Vandermeersch (writer, The Broken Circle Breakdown, directed by Groeningen).
The older versions of Pietro and Bruno are played by acclaimed Italian actors Luca Marinelli (The Old Guard) and Alessandro Borghi (Don’t Be Bad), respectively. Their camaraderie is immediate, as they share tender moments of wistfulness and silliness in equal measure. The Eight Mountains wouldn’t work without the two lead characters being fully-realized and skillfully performed with a lot of weight and responsibility on their shoulders (often literally). Even with the mountains serving as a prominent third character with their intentionally overpowering presence, the patient pacing and noteworthy camera work by Ruben Impens allow Marinelli and Borghi ample opportunity to give deeply heartfelt performances.
Throughout The Eight Mountains, Groeningen and Vandermeersch use different settings to keep the mental push and pull of nature in our minds. As characters struggle to find the environment in which to thrive, we can see how their surroundings impact their decision-making. We don’t see wide angles of city skylines, but instead see cramped restaurant kitchens and family arguments in tight quarters. Meanwhile, in the mountains, wind sweeps down steep hillsides, footpaths wander endlessly through mountain ranges that stretch to the horizon, and characters have the space and silence to think. Inside cabins, characters are bundled warmly by fireplaces, but are completely disconnected from the outside world.
The Eight Mountains is about the differing emotional and spiritual paths that humans need to take, and how these paths can diverge and converge within the lifespan of a close relationship. As Pietro and Bruno get older, they realize that a life alone in the mountains is as discouraging to one as it is ideal to another. But The Eight Mountains takes this message even further, showing that all of life’s choices are delicate matters, and at every turn life is precarious and fragile. The love shared between Pietro and Bruno is just as fragile. Groeningen and Vandermeersch refuse to pass judgment on any of the choices the characters make. Rather, they choose to show that even friendship, in its purest form, has unavoidable hills to climb.
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The Eight Mountains opens Friday May 12 at the Landmark’s Opera Plaza Cinema.
