“Do you have any idea of what you will do with this vaginodrome?” Afilm director is surrounded by at least 20 female actors in his backyard. This is Ferzan Özpetek, aprolific Turkish-Italian filmmaker little known to English audiences, and the occasion is atable read for his new film,Diamanti. “I would like to make amovie featuring the power of women, the work of women,” he responds. “You are my diamonds.”
As the actresses start reading the script, we are plunged into the fictional narrative of the film. It is the 1970s, and Alberta (Luisa Ranieri), aMiranda Priestley and Reynolds Woodcock hybrid running acostume atelier with atight fist, has just received acommission to craft the dresses for abig period drama. The film follows her and her seamstresses’ personal lives as they work on the project, splintering off into amyriad different plot points.
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Eleonora (Lunetta Savino) is hiding her niece in the atelier’s attic; Nina (Paola Minaccioni) is trying to support adepressed young son, and Nicoletta is suffering at the hands of an abusive husband – to cite only afew narrative strands. As sewing machines buzz in the background, the women sing, yell, laugh, and bicker loudly, the atelier bursting at the seams with life and noise. Sounds intense? Well, yes, the whole thing is abit ridiculous, but fun and entertaining precisely because of the melodrama.
Diamanti’s low points come when the fictional narrative is interrupted by Özpetek once again. Sure, by taking us out of the story and back to the table read, he likens the craft of filmmaking to that of the seamstresses: collaborative, devoted, and deeply emotional. However, he also brings the focus back to himself, and his sense of self-aggrandisement is particularly glaring inDiamanti’s final scene. For someone so vocal about his intent to celebrate women, Özpetek seems to frequently bring the spotlight back to his own generosity, as if he is the first person ever to have foregrounded afemale ensemble.
But if you manage to turn off your brain alittle and scoff at the director’s delusions of grandeur,Diamanti is afeast. The hues of yellow and green emphasise the warmth of the atelier and make you want to grab atime machine straight to the 1970s, when apparently the earth tones and dark wood just looked that much better. The costumes, both those created and worn by our seamstresses, are intricate and vibrant, highlighting their craft not only in the narrative but in their clothing too. And the“vaginodrome”, Özpetek’s group of Italian A‑listers, are game with it all. It is adelight to watch them have fun with the twisty script.Diamanti is over-the-top and extravagant, if consistently weakened by the director’s meta intrusions. But Iunderstand Özpetek: if Ihad the chance, Itoo would want to spend time with such ajoyful group ofwomen.