“Skillful presentation and investigation of memory, desire, and friendship shows a filmmaker with a strong visual sensibility and plenty of ideas.”

Playing in this year’s Toronto International Film Festival’s Platform competition is Idda, the second fictional film from Italian director Irene Dionisio. It is Dionisio’s first feature film in nearly ten years following Pawn Street, which debuted in Venice in 2017. With Idda, Dionisio expands her range and shows her ability as a confident and formally precise director.

The story centers around Adele (Tecla Insolia), who works as a photographer while also helping her father at his shop. She is excited because her close friend Sofia (Romana Maggiora Vergano) is returning home to Catania, giving the two an opportunity to climb Mount Etna together. Etna is referred to throughout the film as Idda, after Sofia proclaims the mountain to be feminine because it is alive and can be felt. The two appear to have planned this trip many times, although it seems that it never really happened despite their previous attempts. Adele is quieter and more reserved than Sofia, who is more extroverted and flirtatious. Before they leave for the mountain, the two meet Florian (Mati Galey), a visitor who is audio recording the festival of Saint Agata of Catania. Adele strikes up a brief relationship with Florian over the course of the evening, even as she is taking a break from her boyfriend back home.

As the two begin their journey toward the mountain by train, there are rumblings of some past conflict and strain between them, although they initially appear to be little more than slight tremors. When they reach the mountain, they meet the hunky mountain man Salvatore (Giuseppe De Domenico), a former hiking friend who lives nearby. He joins them on their hike up Etna, as the underlying tensions between Adele and Sofia become increasingly difficult to ignore. They begin arguing more frequently, although Dionisio never makes it entirely clear what is causing the resentment between them. Is it because of Salvatore’s presence, or is there something much deeper between the two? 

Much of the film is intentionally opaque and vague. The opening portion has Adele looking through old photographs and negatives as she anticipates Sofia’s return, with these images intercut with eruptions from Mount Etna. It is a fairly obvious bit of foreshadowing, but it works because the volcanic activity gradually begins to mirror the tension between the two women. As their relationship becomes more volatile, the eruptions become more frequent, turning the mountain into an extension of the emotions they feel. 

Interestingly enough, the use of memory is one of the film’s most important elements. At times, the movie feels almost like a ghost story, as if Sofia is someone from Adele’s past who has somehow returned. But it is never quite clear what is actually happening. Is Sofia a person Adele is imagining because she misses her? Is Sofia really there? Are memories being intercut with the present, or are the boundaries between the two beginning to disappear? Dionisio does a tremendous job creating this sense of temporal uncertainty, and the film becomes increasingly unsettling because of it. The editing keeps the viewer questioning what is real, while the strong cinematography from Gergely Pohárnok captures sublime moments of beauty and eeriness. Etna itself becomes a  character, beautiful and threatening at the same time.

Still, much of the film seems to be too opaque, and at times it drags considerably. The mystery surrounding Adele and Sofia can be intriguing, but the film withholds so much information that it becomes difficult to remain invested in the questions it is asking. Despite the complexity of their relationship, the characters themselves can also seem rather immature and obnoxious, particularly as their arguments continue without providing much additional insight into what is actually happening between them. This is part of the point Dionisio is trying to make, and it becomes clearer in retrospect, but understanding the intention does not always make it more engaging. 

Much of the film also remains highly sensual. There are exquisite scenes of sexuality, while Dionisio explores friendship, lesbianism, and the question of who these characters truly love. Other themes include motherhood, regret, and the way memory can alter understanding of past relationships. Dionisio is clearly interested in how people hold onto the past, and how those memories can become more real than the present. While she succeeds in delving into these ideas, there is simply too much left undeveloped to make the film intellectually satisfying. Perhaps it doesn’t help that her characters, while hiking a volcanic mountain, somehow seem as physically pristine several days into their trip as they did when they first boarded the train. It is a small detail, but one that further removes the film from the physical reality it is trying to establish.

Despite all this, Idda showcases Dionisio’s talent for creating a gripping and complex story. Her skillful presentation and investigation of memory, desire, and friendship shows a filmmaker with a strong visual sensibility and plenty of ideas. The film does not always develop those ideas as successfully as it could, but there is enough here to make Dionisio a filmmaker worth watching.  Importantly, for those attuned to its wavelength, Idda will make for a rewarding and engrossing experience and will linger well after it ends.