Is Loro a biopic or a satire? The trouble is Silvio Berlusconi is such a mad, revolting bastard that it’s hard to tell what elements are fictionalised and what are just the truth presented so grotesquely that it seems unbelievable.
The film follows Berlusconi pouting after he goes into opposition in the late 2000s and pouting after he regains power and it cuts into his whoring/partying time.
If it wasn’t an Italian movie, you’d almost think it was anti-Italian propaganda. Every man is an old, fat, greasy, repulsive leche. Every woman is essentially just a series of shots of tits, ass and vag – utterly interchangeable and utterly disposable. Everyone has a grift, everyone has an angle.
The films covers Berlusconi in his own style – it is gratuitous, garish and repulsive. It’s shot like a music video for some banging beach beats. All gyrating women, cool locations and shagging. Yet it allows him to be the smiling calm at the eye of the storm. No mean feat when you look like a gonk troll with shoe polish for hair. And weirdly, in a world as grotesque as him, the humour he brings is oddly humanising.
Not that he would be pleased with the depiction. He is clearly painted as a grinning second-hand car salesman, shaking your hand as he steals your watch. And beneath, an immature little boy who desperately needs people to like him, who wants only to be the centre of attention so as to never be alone. The actor who plays him is amazing and all the best things about this movie.
It was such an O-T-T start I didn’t think I would like it, but by the time I was watching Berlusconi standing in a tornado of butterflies in his backdoor butterfly garden like a ludicrous goon, I found myself endeared to it.
Unfortunately I now have stuck in my head the really catchy campaign song he makes them all sing in the scud. Skip to 1 min in to hear.