With Marcello Mio, Christophe Honoré has crafted a Franco-Italian cinephile’s wet dream. The titular Marcello is Marcello Mastroianni, the European great. But it’s not the late great actor playing himself. It’s his daughter Chiara Mastroianni playing herself dressed up as him in the film. Also, along for the ride is Chiara’s famous mother, Catherine Deneuve. She too is playing herself. It’s all very meta.
Melvil Poupaud, Benjamin Biolay, and Fabrice Luchini also show up as versions of themselves. You get the sense that the film was made possible by someone famous just reaching for his contact list to assemble this list of European Celebrity Avengers. In what seems like a wink to the audience, one character drops the recently viral word “nepo baby” in a heated conversation. Chiara does have two super-famous parents and has become a famous actress, too. Her nepo baby credentials are solid.
In any case, besides being a collection of European stars, what exactly is this film about and why has it premiered in competition in Cannes? The latter question is a headscratcher; the film is too light to be a serious consideration for the Palme D’Or. As for the first question, truth is, there isn’t much of a story. But here it is anyway.
Near the start of the film, our heroine sees her father in the mirror and collapses. The next time we see her she is shielding her face from her mother, presumably because it is no longer hers. Deneuve assures her daughter that this isn’t the case. But shortly afterwards, Chiara decides to be exactly like her famous father. Most people in her circle are perplexed but accepting—except for Melvil, who embarrasses her publicly by snatching a wig off the imposter’s head. That changes nothing, though. Subsequently, Chiara starts to navigate her life as an incarnation of her father. It is a surreal transition, but Honoré keeps things flexible enough and doesn’t fully lean into the surrealism of this setup. There is no logical explanation either. He is operating on the level of absurdism.
It’s an interesting but thin premise. In fact, without the posthumous draw of Marstroianni and the extant wattage of the cast, Marcello Mio might not exist as a film at all. There is supposed to be some sort of commentary on the lives of children born to famous people, but a lot of that is so subtle that it barely registers. Or maybe it’s just buried under the film’s genuine lack of seriousness. Which is fine, given that it is billed as a comedy–but there are only a handful of laughs from the actions performed and the words spoken onscreen. At best, Marcello Mio is a lighthearted drama.
The most undeniably valuable feature of the film is its performances alongside a solid collection of songs. Deneuve as herself is a joy to watch, as is Luchini, whose character is the most accepting of the daughter-father transformation. Poupaud has the most dramatically demanding role outside of Chiara’s—but everybody here is really just having fun. The chemistry between the main players is familial and it certainly extends to the man behind the camera. You get a sense of the amount of fun and freedom Honoré is luxuriating in when his screenplay addresses the sexual misadventures of Mastroianni through dialogue involving his real-life daughter. A different kind of film might have chosen to be unkind—this, after all, is fiction so, technically, anything goes—but it is unlikely that such a film would attract the same stars Honoré has brought together.
So, for viewers who like the idea of European movie stars having fun onscreen in a film that honours one of the continent’s most famous actors, Marcello Mio will be a pleasant distraction, especially when it turns up on TV in the future. If that’s not you, then be warned: Your mileage may vary.
Director, screenplay: Christophe Honoré
Producers: Philippe Marti, David Thion, Angelo Barbagallo, Andrea Occhipinti and Stefano Massenzi
Cinematography: Rémy Chevrin
Editing: Chantal Hymans
Sound: Guillaume Le Braz
Production companies: Les Films Pelléas, Bibi Film, Lucky Red, France 2 Cinéma, Super 8
production LDRP II, TSF
World Sales: MK2 Films
Venue: Cannes Film Festival (Competition)
In Italian
121 minutes
