Paolo Virzi’s 2013 social critique-slash-who-dunnit feature – Human Capital has been adapted from a book of the same title by an American author, Stephen Amidon. The book is set in Connecticut, but Paolo Vizri had no trouble adapting it to Milan. Paolo Vizri has spoken on how the book’s themes of wealth disparity and fragmented relationships within families and amongst classes are universal. And while Human Capital has themes that are inherently universal, the film is well rooted in a rich, complex and incredibly gestural Italian tradition. Because of this very luscious-ness and also the sordid depiction of an opulent higher class I was reminded at times of The Great Beauty, another recent Italian success by Paolo Sorrentino (another Paolo there!).

So the film is quite textual in its structure. We’re given character chapters and we lurch with each chapter to different times. It’s non-linear structuring at its best, when we revisit scenes always from a different vantage point, we always learn more tantalising clues. The subjects to this intrigue are two families - the wealthy Bernaschi’s and the middle class Ossola’s. They’re pinned together by the relationship of the children – Serena and Massimiliano. They’re also pinned together mystery surrounding a cruel hit and run incident involving a cyclist, we see this scene in the establishing prologue.

The first character chapter is dedicated to Dino, the father of the Ossola’s. He’s a gum chewing real estate agent who becomes wide eyed when he sees the grand estate of hedge fund manager Giovanni Bernaschi – that’s the father of his daughter’s boyfriend. Dino insinuates to Giovanni at times that they’re almost brother-in-laws, he’s sleazy, he’s forward and he manages to weasel his way into the fund. Putting his house and business on the line. The subject of Dino’s desire is given plenty of screen time, the Bernaschi household exudes opulence, with its polished marble, indoor pools and chrome finishings. When we first meet the house its bathed in a summers golden glow, it’s a clever reminder of the fleeting nature of wealth and dreams, summer is soon over and we watch the darker realities of the two households reveal themselves.

We’re also introduced to Carla Bernaschi, the wife of Giovanni. She’s played by Valeria Bruni Tedeschi and I feel she’s a real stand out. She manages to push beyond the archetype and provide a complex character in what could have been a very polarised role. She remains alienated from her family despite her good nature and intentions and struggles to find personal meaning and value in a world where everything is provided for her.

The next character chapter is reserved for Serena, the daughter of Dino and the former girlfriend of Massimiliano. She becomes increasingly disturbed by the Bernaschi household, particularly of Massimiliano’s violence and Giovanni’s cruelty towards his family.

From these three vantage points we’re drawn into the original hit and run incident of the cyclist in the opening of the scene. This narrative thread provides a lot of structural support for the film and I feel really foregrounds issues of justice. The image of a working class man struck down from his bike by a grotesque SUV is quite poignant and in a way the three characters become witnesses to the story. The way the story jumps around in a non-linear way also feels like a cross examination is going on. But while we’re keen in resolving the mystery of who hit the cyclist – because it remains unclear during most of the film – we become just as interested in the underlying injustices and disadvantages that lead to further injustice. Vizri manages to comment that the existence of the super rich class is dependent on class exploitation and the lesser man or woman taking the fall for them.

So the film does more than serve as a cautionary reminder that all that glitters is not gold. It’s incredibly scathing towards the astounding wealth disparity that many Italians live with today. It’s anti-Berlusconi, not directly of course, but it sets up Berlusconi’s Italy and takes it to trial. There’s a SMH article by Philipa Hawker who called it the ‘stylish depiction of the world at its worse’. Which I think is right on the money.

- Steph Payne