Mario Martone’s Biopic of Goliarda Sapienza

It’s not generally a good sign when explanatory title cards at the start and end of a movie give you vital information missing from the movie itself. But that’s what happens with Fuori, a serviceable account of Italian writer Goliarda Sapienza’s years as both a prisoner and ex-con, during which she forged relationships with inmates that inspired some of her best literature. Directed efficiently if too tamely by Mario Martone (Nostalgia), and starring Cannes regular Valeria Golino (Rain Man), the film should find an audience in places where Sapienza’s books are popular, mainly Italy and France.

The author became famous in her homeland after her novel, The Art of Joy, was published in 1998. It was a critical and commercial success that turned Sapienza, who had died two years earlier, into a major voice in Italian literature. She had led a fascinating life before that, growing up in Sicily with socialist-anarchist parents, fighting in her dad’s brigade of partisans during World War II, acting on stage and in films (including a tiny role in Visconti’s Senso) and trying to make ends meet during years of impoverishment as a struggling writer in Rome — until she wound up stealing a friend’s jewelry and found herself locked up.

For those unfamiliar with Sapienza’s life or work, much of this is only made clear through the title cards. Otherwise, the script by Martone and Ippolita di Majo focuses solely on the time Sapienza spent in jail — which seems like months in the movie, but in reality was just five days — as well as the period afterwards during which she befriended an inmate, Roberta (Matilda de Angelis), who was young enough to be her daughter.

Set in 1980, Fuori seesaws between prison scenes and life on the outside, where Sapienza, who was already in her mid-50s at the time, is back home in Rome trying to write. When she gets a call from Roberta, who’s fresh out of jail and looking to reconnect, she begins to reminisce about their days together behind bars. The cross-cutting can feel a bit systematic, but it also adds something dynamic to a movie that’s more of a chronicle celebrating the women’s burgeoning friendship than a full-fledged drama.

Which doesn’t mean Roberta’s life isn’t filled with conflict: She’s a total badass, stealing cars whenever she pleases and shooting up heroin every night. Sapienza seems captivated by the young woman, who can go from hot to cold in a heartbeat, acting all seductive in one scene and then treating the older woman with contempt. The two eventually link up with fellow ex-con Barbara (Italian pop star Elodie), who now runs a perfume shop. Together, they form a unique bond that’s far more appealing to Sapienza than all the stuffy writers and intellectuals who populate her bourgeois world.

The writer’s attraction towards the criminal underclass is what makes her books, especially The University of Rebibbia (named after the place where she was incarcerated) and The Certainties of Doubt, so fascinating, but it doesn’t necessarily make for great cinema.

Martone favors an academic style that can feel rather stolid, even if the tech credits are polished in all departments. Scenes are handsomely lensed by cinematographer Paolo Carnera (Io Capitano) and the recreations of ’80s-era Rome by production designer Carmine Guarino (The Hand of God) are expertly handled. The catchy score by Valerio Vigliar is another plus. But not a single sequence in Fuori manages to really stand out.

Golino, who also wrote and directed a six-part TV adaptation of The Art of Joy (the pilot premiered in Cannes last year), convincingly embodies a woman who was a rebel in her own time. The actress literally bares herself in certain nude scenes, whether it’s upon arriving in prison or during a cheesy shower sequence in which Sapienza, Roberta and Barbara bathe together at the back of the perfume shop, just like they used to do in jail. De Angelis gives an explosive performance as a girl incapable of settling down, oscillating between playing the daughter Sapienza never had and becoming a potential love interest.

Fuori means “outside” in Italian, and the film professes that life after prison is often a continuation of what went on behind bars, which is why so many ex-cons wind up going back in. Martone underscores these ideas in a story showing how Sapienza’s experience at Rebibbia impacted her in the years that followed, even if her famous novel was written beforehand. It’s a thought-provoking subject that probably plays better on paper than on screen, urging us to seek out the writer’s books once the movie is over.