Taking the list of films sentenced in prison is short enough in itself to give Mario Martone’s latest “Fuori” a certain novelty. Its subject is the late Italian writer Goliarda Sapienza, who spent a full five days in prison in the mid-fifties because he stole his friends' jewelry. She stands out from the jingle, claiming that she finds and understands more in prisoners than in Italian intellectuals she has spent decades trying to crack. Whether you are familiar with Sapienza's work or working outside of Italy, the answer may be "no", which sounds like exquisite material. But Maton's repetitive, boring nonlinear films try something more impressionistic and expansive, and with emotional mute, sometimes weird exploitation results.

After a long-developed feature of Venice, many of whom are rooted in Italian national history and legends, which can be regarded diplomatically as primarily local interest, Maton returned to the Cannes competition and returned to many international farming markets - the 2022 "Nostalgia", a delicious, atmospheric, Neapolitan crime branch, enhanced by Pierfanse car farmhousessco for pierfressco. Since then, the 65-year-old director's first novel album has landed again in Cannes' premiere, although it feels like a form of broader appeal. Although Sapienza's cross-border veteran Valeria Golino's casting offers something to distributors worldwide, this isolated and narrative muddy portrait gives viewers' outward insights limiting insight into a woman's insight, her closed champion bald head claims to be "considered as one of the greatest writers of the 20th century."

So since Sapienza's famous novel The Art of Joy narrowly slid into the above century, it's a story: it was published in 1998, in 1998, two years after her death at the age of 72, and twenty years after her completion. (The English translation only went on the shelves in 2013.) Her reputation grew largely after death, and "Fuori" discovered Sapienza at the beginning of the 1980s, unjusted and unpublished, beyond some minor times. After some Florida’s introductory titles, she called her “Equal Love and Frenzy,” she performed a strip search while entering the Rebibbia Women’s Prison in Rome, and then cut it for a while after a brief verdict as the flat writer struggled to find even a small amount of jobs.

The film will continue in this uneasy dart style, as Maton, co-writer Ippolita di Majo and editor Jacopo Quadri aims to develop some sense of conspiracy in Sapienza's journey by following key information about the past until any point in the overall structure is done fairly arbitrarily. For example, until about half the proceedings, the audience could understand exactly what was impossible to put the respected middle-aged woman in prison. By this stage, however, we have established the firm bond she has formed inside with Roberta (Matilda de Angelis), a young, heroin tears and regular Rebibbia guest, and more vaguely with Roberta’s friend Barbara (Italian pop singer Elodie) that the interests of this women are in this women’s alliance.

The relationship between Sapienza and Roberta - partly a friendship, partly a mutual, confusing fascination - when both are finally released, as they gather repeatedly in various obscure Roman locations to drink too much, commit crimes of varying degrees, and talk through their actions. Their interactions have passive aggressive dynamics, which are repeated after a while, as newly inspired older writers view young rebels as subjects of research, while the latter opposes such very objectivity, and they look round after round. At least we get the fixation of Sapienza: De Angelis is electric, self-destructive Roberta, even if the character himself isn't well written and the pulse of the film accelerates whenever it goes into the frame.

It is unclear whether Sapienza's interest in young women goes beyond the platonic-Golino's reserved performance teases the many possibilities behind weathered, longing eyes-or whether the film lets its own sensual imagination roam. For example, in this ostensible feminist study, it’s hard not to feel an irritable male staring behind a weird, unpaid episode where the three reunited roommates spontaneously decide to take a shower together. Although the script is drawn from multiple texts by Sapienza, her own author voice does not appear much, mostly equal to a flowing, plotly chaotic emotional clip, with the long-time futile mist shot of dp paolo carnera, radiating a difference somewhere in the case of class differences and generations, but in some way extended one difference. "A story thief is me," said her own energetic Sapionza. "Fuli" borrowed her narrative handcraft again - my figure, and some meaning was lost in the process.