Valentina is adrift. Nearing 27 years old, she still lives with her parents in her hometown of Niscemi, Sicily, a place whose natural landscape is slowly deteriorating thanks to wildfires that ravage the forests, and MUOS (Mobile User Objective Systems) that dot the landscape. The satellites, part of an American base and— as cuts to a TV news report suggests— currently being used by the military to monitor the conflict in Ukraine, are more than just an eyesore. Valentina and her family’s car is stopped by soldiers for ID checks anytime they try to go anywhere. Valentina’s father Salvatore’s health is failing in tandem with their surrounding environment. He wears a pacemaker, and Valentina, single and jobless, ferries him back and forth to his doctor appointments because he cannot legally drive. His pacemaker hasn’t been functioning correctly, and his doctor suggests that radio waves from the MUOS may be interfering with it.
Director Francesca Scalisi keeps the threat of the MUOS and the small-scale devastation caused by American expansionism largely in the background of her close observations of the family living in their shadow in Valentina and the MUOSters. Her filmmaking is simultaneously tight and patient, utilizing a 4:3 aspect ratio to hold tight to her subjects, while frequently employing long, contemplative takes to accent the slow pace of life and Valentina’s growing sense of entrapment. Her ennui is often frustratingly cloudy to really pierce through, however. She’s a sensitive soul, prone to burst into tears at the slightest provocation; this is particularly evident when she and Salvatore happen upon a tree being consumed by flames in one of her favorite places. But while she verbally expresses a desire to move out and move on with her life, she’s slow to take any actual initiative. When it comes to finding work, for example, she declines her mother’s suggestion that she turn her crocheting hobby into a job, and sends out CVs for kitchen work to little avail. She exhibits some sense of obligation to stay and help her family (her older sister, who visits occasionally, has moved out and on), but her parents express a desire for her to grow into her independence.
This all makes for a rather muddled coming-of-age tale (although it’s hard not to relate to that sense of panic that accompanies the looming knowledge that your parents won’t always be there for you, and that eventually you’ll be thrust out to tackle the world on your own), while Scalisi’s injection of fictional elements into the film— Valentina’s crocheted flowers growing on trees, for instance— conjures a sense of wonder that’s too manufactured to truly feel awe-inspiring. And yet, there’s something to the delicacy with which Scalisi threads nature and technology, poetry and reality together to point to the struggles of pressing on with everyday life in the face of adversity, how our surroundings shape who we are as people, and the necessity to maintain a balance between all those elements. We may not know exactly where Valentina is going, but we know that the kids will be alright.
Valentina and the MUOSters had its U.S. premiere at the True/False Film Festival on February 27. Runtime: 80 minutes.
Katie at the Movies 