A Chimera is a mythical creature with the head of a lion, the body of a goat, and tail of a snake. It shows up in many different ancient mythical traditions, often serving as a physical representation of the Divine, signifying the coexistence of opposites - good and evil, strength and vulnerability, life and death.
Alice Rohrwacher’s La Chimera (2023) makes much reference to this symbolism, exploring the portal between past and present through a beautiful tale of a man who is stuck in the doorway.
The story unfolds in 1980s Tuscany, following the journey of Arthur (Josh O’Connor), a disgraced archaeologist who makes a living selling stolen ancient artefacts. The film opens with Arthur returning from prison, finding his way home to the small rural town of Tarquinia. Before long, Arthur reunites with his old gang of tombaroli (Etruscan tomb raiders) to dig up buried treasures they hope to sell on the black market.
Arthur is different from the other tombaroli for a few reasons:
Arthur has a gift. Led by a dowser (essentially a jagged stick that acts as a divination wand), he can sense the void underground where perfectly preserved tombs lay untouched under his feet.
Arthur isn’t interested in money. He is a haunted man and while the past calls to him in the form of buried objects, it also consumes him as he wanders through life like a ghost, mourning a lost love. He is a man in limbo, on a mythic Orpheus-and-Eurydice-style quest for a doorway to the afterlife so that he may see his love again.
La Chimera is beautifully shot, with clever formal and technical choices, weaving together various film formats such as 35mm, 16mm, and Super16. And despite its magical qualities, it is in many ways an ode to Italian Neorealism. Rohrwacher references the work of De Sica, Visconti, Rossellini in the gritty industrial setting, the use of amateur actors, and through the examination of class, history and moral ambiguity.
While the story centres around Arthur’s struggles with loss and grief, the film ultimately questions who owns the past and who can access it. Why are the tomb raiders considered criminals anyway, when any artefact that lives inside the glass cases of a museum could be considered stolen? Why should anyone have the right to disturb these tombs? There’s a scene where we watch the brilliance of the entombed objects oxidize and fade the moment the underground air is disturbed. It really drives home the point that these treasures are meant for the eyes of souls, not those of living people.
I really loved this movie. It was the only feature film I saw during the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival back in September, and months later, I still think about it regularly (maybe even daily). Despite its runtime of 133 mins, it felt short to me and left me wanting to spend more time with the characters in their strange, magical world. It will be in theatres in March and I highly recommend seeing it on the big screen if you can. Enjoy!
This sounds like a movie I will love!