The Fabelmans: a unicum in the filmography of the great Steven Speilberg

Read Time:4 Minute, 17 Second

The Fabelmans, the new film by Steven Spielberg, represents a unicum in the filmography of the great American filmmaker. An introspection operation that – as told by the filmmaker in a public meeting he attended in New York with Martin Scorsese – before the pandemic he would never have thought of doing. But the devastating impact of Covid on our lives has made many beliefs questioned, leading Spielberg to use his medium of choice to open up explicitly with his audience.

The end result is an extraordinary film: The Fabelmans, which premiered at the Rome Film Fest and at cinemas in Italy from December 22, is not only the most intimate film by the director of Jurassic Park and Close Encounters of the Third Kind but also perhaps his best film of the last twenty years.

The Fabelmans stages the story of Sammy Fabelman (Gabriel LaBelle), a boy who moves with his family from New Jersey to Arizona. His parents, Burt (Paul Dano) and Mitzi (Michelle Williams), make him discover the magic of cinema as a child, so much so that the Seventh Art almost becomes an obsession for our protagonist. Between family secrets and an adolescence that was anything but simple, Sammy will find himself living intensely two fundamental decades in the history of the United States: the 1950s and 1960s.

Scripted by the director himself and by the playwright Tony Kushner (Munich, Lincoln), The Fabelmans contains within its two and a half hours the essence of Spielberg’s cinema, a true artistic and emotional manifesto of a genius who has thrilled generations of spectators.

The extraordinary ability of the Oscar-winning filmmaker to mix auteur cinema and popular cinema reaches very high peaks in The Fabelmans, in terms of form (also thanks to the contribution of Janusz Kaminski, Spielberg’s historic director of photography) and, above all, of substance. In fact, the nature of the story allows anyone to relate to it but it is neither boring nor trivial, while the directorial package is incredibly refined while not lingering in frills and self-satisfaction.

Despite the demanding duration of two and a half hours, the film flows in a very pleasant way, without getting lost in lengthiness and without easy writing tricks. In addition to its symbolic, autobiographical and meta-cinematographic value, Steven Spielberg’s new film manages to keep you glued to the screen thanks to the skilful management of the rhythm and narrative registers within it – including that of comedy, a genre in which Spielberg was little experienced but which he handles with extreme naturalness.

The Fabelmans is a work that can create an initial feeling of estrangement. When you are faced with one of the most influential men of modern cinema, with such a vast and important filmography, you think you know him well through his work, coming to idealize his personality. Instead, when he puts himself completely naked, descending from his pedestal of semi-divinity on the big screen and showing us all his humanity, then our certainties are wonderfully called into question.

There are several issues touched by Spielberg in the film, primarily the family story. The dynamic between Sammy, a mother who is a great failed artist (a convincing Michelle Williams) and a decidedly more pragmatic father (a great Paul Dano) is realistic, visceral and emotional. The same can be said of the bond with other family members, whether they are of blood like the sisters and uncle Boris or acquired like the interesting character played by Seth Rogen. It is in fact precisely this network of relationships so well outlined that allows us to be able to see ourselves again in the young protagonist, whose challenges are similar to those that each of us has had to face in life.

Another fundamental topic dealt with in The Fabelmans is Spielberg’s relationship with Cinema and what it represents for him: Sammy’s growth path leads us to show us two sides of the same coin, i.e. the almost Fellinian concept of cinema as a medium capable of embodying their dreams but also the power of a medium capable of manipulating reality to their liking.

Spielberg’s almost maniacal attention to the tools of his future profession (there are numerous scenes that show this detail) is a touching declaration of love towards the big screen, almost moving for his clarity and sincerity. The Fabelmans exudes in every frame the explosive force of the Maestro’s passion, the one that has allowed him in over fifty years of career to create milestones loved by audiences around the world.

The last minutes of the feature film are a real lesson for young authors: what matters, in the end, is not so much what is represented but how it is represented. Cinema is a matter of gaze, of perspective, of horizon: only the eye of the artist is able to give uniqueness to the work.

All of these elements make The Fabelmans a key chapter in the artistic journey of the filmmaker of Ready Player One and The Post, as well as a solid candidate for awards season.

By Walter Nicoletti