Uncle Vanya. Tango & Cash. The Odyssey. What do all these films have in common? Russian director Andrei Konchalovsky has had a lengthy career, creating successful films for over sixty years in the USSR, US, UK, Italy, and Russia. As one who has written and directed in so many different genres and styles of international cinema, it is difficult to define what makes a Konchalovsky film specific to him. One could say it is his dependence upon a fixed camera or loose narratives, both of which are featured in Sin. But I would not recommend this film as a masterclass in Konchalovsky’s filmmaking prowess.
The plot, according to Sin’s introduction, follows Michelangelo hard at work for the Della Rovere family, headed by Pope Julius II. But when Julius dies before Michelangelo finishes his most recent commission for his family, the sculptor is torn between the Medici’s, Pope Leo X, and their rivalry with the previous ruling family of Italy.
But if you expect Sin to center around tense and thrilling political intrigue, prepare to be as disappointed as Michelangelo constantly is with his own work. A better plot summary for the film would be a stubborn, obsessive artist who struggles with paranoia and self-doubt to reach deadlines and settle on decisions. Economically and politically, Michelangelo constantly finds himself with his back against the wall—but also literally. He spends a good portion of the film, sitting with his back against walls talking to himself, his version of curling into the fetal position.
Michelangelo’s paranoia isn’t unfounded, he has many enemies, some made own his own inability to keep up with debts and deadlines, others as part of papal politics. But rather than building mystery or suspense, the film reveals such through expository dialogue. Perhaps it is because Italian is not Konchalovsky’s first language or poor subtitle translations, but the dialogue is stilted, lacking any of the beauty and poetry expected from the Romantic language.
There are moments when this simplified phrasing works and the film veers into absurdist comedy. The rivalry between Raphael and Michelangelo provides comedic fodder, but this aspect is hardly focused on. In fact, the film is as distracted as Michelangelo himself, with a constant ellipsis that it becomes nigh impossible to track time and progress.
For a film about such a great artist, it is hardly beautiful. Perhaps this was intentional, with Konchalovsky wanting to focus on the melancholy and harsh reality of the historical period. But there are a few moments of visual intrigue, particularly with Michelangelo’s “supernatural” visions. Yes, that is right. This film has political intrigue, the supernatural, witty banter, all rolled up into a two-hour film that easily could be watched at 1.5x speed without missing a line of dialogue.
What is to be gained from watching Sin other than contempt for Michelangelo? By the end of the film, his mistakes do not catch up to him (but instead with those around the artist) and he is praised for his artwork. It is hard to cheer for someone who is constantly whining, drinking, or both; who is remembered as a genius despite his obstinance. Not Recommended.