Loro is the Italian rendition of The Wolf of Wall Street, of sorts, but without Martin Scorsese's pointed script or pervasive kinetic energy; essentially, it's an empty film about the rich and powerful that wallows in its 150-minute runtime instead of taking full advantage of it.
Writer and director Paolo Sorrentino tells the imagined story about real-life Italian business giant Silvio Berlusconi, late in his career, as his marriage deteriorates and he pursues the office of Prime Minister of Italy. Meanwhile, young and sleazy businessman—and maybe pimp?—Sergio Morra (Riccardo Scamarcio) is admiring Berlusconi from afar. Sergio has money, popularity, and charisma... but not the way Berlusconi does. He sees the tycoon's life as the ultimate attainment: a massive mansion, political sway, and grandiose sex parties with dozens and dozens of women. He becomes obsessed with achieving such status and power, and he knows the only way to do so is to get into Berlusconi's field of vision—a feat easier said than done.
Sergio is the main character of the first act of the film. Much mention is made of Berlusconi, though we never see him; he's a mysterious, looming force in the world of the uber-wealthy. But when we're introduced to him about 40 minutes into the film, Berlusconi takes over as the lead. From there, we witness firsthand the titanic influence he holds over people, in conversation, at social events, and even in Italy's political landscape. Berlusconi's power is felt, thanks to a satisfyingly slimy artifice created by actor Toni Servillo. A part of me expected Servillo's Berlusconi to snap at any moment, ruining someone's life over a minor offense or inconvenience; there's a chilling, near-dead look in his eyes whenever he pretends to sincerely engage someone.
But once Berlusconi steps in, Sergio essentially disappears, if not literally, then thematically. The film stops being about the pursuit of wealth and more about... having it? Quite honestly, I struggled to pick up on what I was supposed be feeling about the drugs, money, and sex that surrounded Berlusconi's lavish life. There are vague ideas about power corrupting, as well as a commentary about Berlusconi's apathy toward fellow man and loved ones, but the lack of consequence or resolution (or even an arc to resolve) prevent the lengthy story of Loro from feeling worthwhile. At a certain point, you're just watching the debauchery of The Wolf of Wall Street, minus the infectious depravity of Leo DiCaprio's Jordan Belfort and friends, or the specificity of Scorcese's criticism.
One stand-out positive element is the cinematography of Luca Bigazzi, bolstered (but at times hampered) by bizarro editing choices. Never has rich life looked more visually appealing. When the story went dry, I was at least stimulated by the colors and movement on the screen. That earns some points, at least in my animal brain.
Loro is certainly not a bad film, nor a poorly-constructed one. It just seems to lack teeth and a discernible goal. It's visually stunning, well-acted, and showcases no shortage of patience. But at two-and-a-half hours, it would have been nice to gain more from the experience, whether it be catharsis, satirical amusement, or, if Sorrentino could swing it, genuine empathy. Unfortunately, none are abundantly present. Loro is almost as cold and disinterested in humanity as the characters who reside in it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0SC9H6LnZxc&w=585