ANNI FELICI – “happy years” in English – is a loving, wistful, humorous and touchingly serious look back at the 70s. Dario, director Daniele Luchetti’s alter ego, is just about 10 years old. Together with his little brother Paulo they watch on as their parents manage their passions and search for freedom at a time when one could still live out that kind of lifestyle. Dario’s father Guido is a sculptor. He plasters naked women and used the imprints to make lamps and has made quite the successful business out of it. However, he would much rather be avant-garde. He keeps his family at a distance as they destroy his image and his affairs with his plastered women. Serena and the kids secretly follow him when his gallery owner Helke, played by Martina Gedeck, flys him to Milan for a performance. His macho and hollow experiment with naked women is a disaster for both his career and personal life. It is a turning point for Serena. She has finally had enough of his rebuffs and self-indulgence and decides to travel to a woman’s camp in the South of France with Helke and the kids.

The kids are always there in ANNI FELICI. The adults are mostly caught up with themselves and the children notice everything. They know their father’s models by name and they see the affection grow between Helke and Serena during their vacation. When Dario finally gets his eagerly awaited camera he begins to document the things he sees and captures favorable shots of the family with his super 8 footage that show the pitfalls and highlights of his parent’s relationship. The camera often focuses on the colorful pop art objects in Helke’s gallery, representative of Guido’s sell out as a wannabe radical with no mission statement. They are an expression of Dario and his brother’s (and quite possible the director’s) new sense of ease.

On the surface ANNI FELICI portrays a somewhat difficult coming of age story with complicated parents and the destruction of the conservative family model at a tumultuous time. Daniele Luchetti also highlights the warmth and lightness of the decade which make them seem like joyful years, at least in hindsight. The choice of material also helps in that regard: ANNI FELICI was shot in 35mm, 16mm, and 8mm and visually evokes blurriness and unpredictability through that as well.

Hendrike Bake

Translation: Elinor Lewy