“Simple in scope but unexpectedly poetic in intention”

It is generally agreed that everyone will find the family they need. In many cases they are born into it, whereas in others it arrives in the form of a more unconventional structure. The concept of chosen families has led to some fascinating discussion, especially when it comes to issues like identity and the constant search for a sense of belonging. This is something that we find informing Dario Albertini as he sets out to make Armony, a beautifully poetic and deeply moving story of an unexpected companionship and how some of the most meaningful family dynamics are those which emerge through unconventional means. The film follows the titular character, a gruff but kind-hearted trucker who has spent almost his entire life in his own company. His solitary existence is suddenly shattered with the re-emergence of his sister Iolanda, whom he last saw a quarter of a century before. She insists that Armony gets to know her daughter, the precocious six-year-old Carlotta, and the pair immediately connect – so much that when Iolanda disappears without a trace it is up to Armony to take care of his niece, a responsibility he is forced to take on despite his protestations, and which he does with the help of an old friend and a young woman who he meets along the way. A simple premise complemented by exceptional performances and a strong screenplay, Armony is a quietly devastating character study that gradually evolves to become one of the most poignant examinations of chosen families that we have seen in quite some time.  

Armony takes a very straightforward idea and allows it to gradually build to become a deeply moving examination of the lengths to which we sometimes have to go to protect those who we care about, even if it means making certain sacrifices. The film is a well-crafted, deeply compelling character study that follows two unlikely companions as they accompany each other through a world that can sometimes be hostile to those who don’t quite abide by its conventions. In the case of this film, we have what is essentially an odd couple scenario, with Armony being presented as a man quite happy to live a quiet, isolated life (and we have to question if his line of work was chosen for this reason, or if he’s grown so accustomed to being alone that it is now all he knows), whereas Carlotta looks at the world with the wide-eyed wonder that seemingly only exists through the perspective of a child. Her innocence initially contradicts her uncle’s more cynical worldview, while also covertly opening his own eyes to the wonders that have always surrounded him, but which he seemed unable to notice, whether accidentally or by choice. The story also includes interactions with Pamela, a transgender woman and old friend of the protagonist who has also been impacted by a deep loneliness that their friendship has made more bearable, and Jenny, a troubled young woman who is expecting her child, and who Armony takes under his wing after it is revealed that her boyfriend is quite dangerous. This quartet of characters become the anchor for this rich, captivating drama that doesn’t explore anything particularly revolutionary, but has a quiet sincerity that elevates the simple premise.

From its first moments it becomes quite clear that Armony was designed to primarily be an exploration of these characters and their various experiences, which intersects with the overarching discussions around chosen families. In order to bring these characters to life, the director had to find actors who could scale some very challenging emotional obstacles, finding the truth beneath complex people whose internal quandaries anchor the story. The part of Armony is played by Valerio Mastandrea, whose performance is almost miraculous – the character is a man who is perfectly content to live a solitary life, but who only realises the value of sharing it with others once he is placed in a difficult position. It requires Mastandrea to move between many different emotions, with some of the most powerful moments being those that remain entirely wordless, relying on his ability to create an emotionally rich character from a very straightforward premise. Aurora Cherchi is the other half of the central duo, and while she is young, there’s an impressive quality to her performance, particularly in how she so seamlessly portrays the innocence and idealistic view of a child simply trying to make sense of a world she is far too young to understand fully. Supporting parts by Clara Tramontano as the pregnant woman befriended by the protagonist, Pamela Schettino as his lifelong friend (and one of the most beautiful depictions of the older transgender community we’ve seen in a while) and a brief but memorable appearance from Asia Argento all tie the film together and make Armony a truly moving character study about people simply trying to make their way through life, realising that it is far easier to tackle these challenges when accompanied by those who are trying to do the same and that any journey is far more bearable with a companion or two.

The key to the success of Armony doesn’t only come in the themes and how these actors interpret them, but also in how Albertini takes an idea and develops it in such a way that it becomes emotionally very rich and deeply moving. The topic being discussed here is not entirely new, but what makes this film different is the lengths to which it goes to avoid becoming overly predictable or resorting to the more obvious techniques. There is a very narrow tonal tightrope that this film has to deftly navigate, since the story is inherently quite emotional, and the director manages to showcase the deep sense of sentimentality lingering beneath the surface without making it saccharine, which is always a concern with films that tackle such intimidating subject matter. There’s a quiet resilience to Armony that captures our attention, mainly through the promise of a story designed to show the lives of characters who are simply trying to survive. So much of the impact left by this film emerges through its careful combination of tones, with the deep melancholy that emerges from the core themes being contrasted with moments of pure joy, showing that these characters are all accompanying each other on what turns out to be an unexpectedly complex journey through life. Despite its more intense subject matter, Armony still manages to find some time for humour, which bolsters the core themes without invalidating the more emotionally complex elements, finding the right tonal blend that highlights exactly what this film intends to say, delivering it with precision and deep affection for the subject matter.

Armony is the kind of social realist film that seems simple at a glance, with a straightforward premise and clear intentions in what it is trying to say, but which gradually reveals itself to be so much more complex, a carefully-constructed story of friendship, identity and the importance of finding a community that can provide the support and guidance through difficult experiences, as well as being there to celebrate the joyful moments. It’s a tender film for the most part, but it is also not afraid to be more challenging when it needs to be, especially through its efforts to capture the full scope of the deep, profound emotions that pulsate throughout the film. Through a close collaboration between the director and his cast, who come to a clear understanding of how best to approach these characters and what they represent, Armony proves to be a fascinating account of chosen families, and how some of the most important relationships we form are with those people who come into our orbit by chance, but leave a lasting impression. Simple in scope but unexpectedly poetic in intention, Armony represents a more nuanced portrayal of a timely issue, and approaches it in an authentic and soulful way, proving that some of the most impactful stories are those which seem the most modest at a cursory glance.

(c) Image copyright: Andrea Pirrello