By:DHERRAN TITHERINGTON
Paolo Sorrentino’s ‘The Hand of God’ is a stunning depiction of his own youth, growing up in Naples in the 80s. To aid in the process of illustrating a time gone by, cinematographer Daria D’Antonio masterfully examines scenes from various points of view, giving us, the viewer, a deeper and more intimate observation of Sorrentino’s past. She speaks of her great responsibility in doing so, and in translating the emotion and life of Paolo’s story in a cinematic way.
Her professional work began early, with a keen desire to work with cameras and to learn the trade. Her first success came as a director of photography on the documentary ‘Il Passaggio Della Linea’, which went on to receive the award for the Bellaria Film Festival’s Casa Rossa prize. Later, she would collaborate with acclaimed Italian directors, such as Paolo Sorrentino. A striking achievement for Daria D’Antonio is winning the Globo D’Oro twice, for Best Cinematography: the first woman to do so.
D’Antonio had the incredible asset of a youth spent in Naples. Returning to her hometown to create the film was a sobering experience and challenged her to capture the beauty of the city and the places in which they both grew, whilst remaining faithful and true to Sorrentino’s memory and vision. Sorrentino speaks graciously of D’Antonio’s work, and her intuitive instinctiveness to produce his image of youth in a manner which left room for the appropriate emotions to infiltrate each scene.
Daria D’Antonio wanted a simple look for the film, utilising natural light and appropriate costumes and set to reflect the period. The emphasis was on recreating truth, not overdoing visual aesthetics. Originally, Sorrentino wanted to test out more acidic colour tones, like that of ‘watching a VHS tape’, Daria rejected this notion and instead they opted to use shifting tones throughout the film, reflecting the rises and falls of the protagonist, dipping in and out of periods of his life. The film begins vivid and bright, with many shots of the large bustling family, out in the blue water or dining in the greenery outside. With Fabietto’s decline, comes the muted and downcast shots- the entire mood of the film is directly impacted by Daria’s choice of light and colour.
The film showcases much quieter camera work, that of little movement or handheld shots. Daria refers to the camera as ‘invisible’, as a mere onlooker, focusing in on the people and the emotion of the scene. This is particularly evident in the stiller shots, where the action lies not in the change in angles or positions, but the raw feeling and pain on the screen. Where the light from the window shines just perfectly on Fabio’s aunt’s face, illuminating the immense grief in her eyes.
I will continue to look out for D’Antonio’s work. Her ability to transport the viewer to 1980s Naples, a time and place of great change and excitement, shadowed by the traumatic past of a young filmmaker, is magnificent. ‘The Hand of God’ is a powerful example of female cinematography at its finest.