The opening credits of Roberto De Paolis’ terrific Princess are designed like the introduction to a fairytale, with cute Disney-like framings and curling tree branches, because fairy princesses are always connected in some way to a forest, right? Into the woods we go, only in this case, Princess is a Nigerian sex worker outside Rome and the woods are where she does her business. Residents and intrepid visitors to Italy have long been familiar with the sight of prostitutes (especially African and East European) working out-of-the-way roadsides, but their marginalization both physically and in the Italian psyche has been pretty much complete until De Paolis entered their lives, delivering a spirited film that’s as honest as it is respectful. Working largely with women whose experiences mirror those on screen, the director more than fulfills the promise of his 2017 Quinzaine debut Pure Hearts with a second feature destined to enjoy worldwide distribution.
Princess is played by Glory Kevin and it’s no exaggeration to say her character name and her real one both suit her to a T. Unabashed, quick-witted and infused with deep-rooted defensive mechanisms that very rarely cease functioning, her resilience isn’t depicted as heroic and her life is neither sugar-coated nor made tragic: the man who decides to “save” her may not fully understand what he’s doing and why, but Princess is a powerhouse whose one predictable attribute is that she’ll do what’s necessary to protect herself, inside and out.
She’s introduced kneeling in the forest in prayer before heading out to the roadside in her violet wig, swinging to hip-hop in her earpods as she tries to interest some truckers in a quickie. They tease and drive off, killing a fox on the way which Princess takes back to the home she shares with other Nigerian sex workers: they’re going to have roadkill roast for dinner. De Paolis draws tremendous energy from all these women, their spirited interactions and boisterous physicality punctuated by flaring tempers that fizzle out with unexpected speed. The communal house is her safe haven in a way, but even there, with rivalries brewing, the only truly safe place is within herself, though she doesn’t dare nurse emotions that could puncture the layers of protection she’s cultivated for the past three years working the streets.
The delineation between roadside and forest feels unique, like a tarmacked artery skirting an enchanted wood where people (and sometimes cars) unexpectedly appear as if, well, as if in a fairytale. Only the men who crop up seemingly out of nowhere are clients, never prince charmings, and Princess can’t be certain if they’ll treat her decently. Yet this is her job, and payment legitimizes the sale of her body, allowing her to separate work from the rest of her life. De Paolis excels at conveying a sense of place, of belonging and not belonging, such as when Princess and her friends go to Rome on her birthday – the city isn’t far away but it’s as if they’ve entered another land. Given how the African community is generally treated in Italy, this sense of not being a part of their environment, reinforced by their work in the forest which removes them from “normal” spaces, is a key element of the film.
Usually Princess’ johns are low wage earners or fixed income seniors, though sometimes she hits the jackpot, like when a cocaine-flying guy in a Ferrari (Maurizio Lombardi) takes her for a spin and she feels on top of the world. Then there’s Corrado (Lino Musella), a nice mushroom forager who meets Princess in the forest and is intrigued enough to want to know her better. She’s at first annoyed – who’s this weird guy more interested in funghi and animals than sex and people, who never has any money on him? Wasting time without a reward is her biggest no-no, because working without pay is the definition of being used, and even though that work is unpleasant, it’s her path towards stability. Corrado wants to give her more than money: he wants to save her, perhaps not in so many words, but his idea is to treat her so well that she’ll willingly give up prostituting herself. Princess likes the guy, but a relationship, especially one as uneven as this, has too many uncertainties whereas a business deal with cold hard cash is the only thing she knows she can rely on.
We only see her fully vulnerable once, after she gets into a major bust-up with her colleague Success (Sandra Osagie) and Giovanni (Salvatore Striano), an asshole taxi driver, leaves her naked in the forest. Princess finally weeps, only when she’s alone, and soon after she’s in control again, finding a way out of a situation that would defeat anyone else. Her resourcefulness is one of her defining traits (together with an unfiltered way of always playing on the edge), and Glory Kevin makes her fully alive with the kind of full-on yet nuanced performance one never expects from a non-professional. De Paolis worked with non-profs in his previous film as well and has a knack for knowing how to rehearse his cast, but in Princess he’s also allowed his actors to participate in the script, resulting in a collaborative work that’s both true to their experiences and works brilliantly on screen. D.o.p. Claudio Cofrancesco is also responsible for the film’s success, his supple, dynamic camera fully attuned to character, reflecting rather than forcing the energies around him.
Director: Roberto De Paolis
Screenplay: Roberto De Paolis
Cast: Glory Kevin, Lino Musella, Sandra Osagie, Salvatore Striano, Maurizio Lombardi, Mirabel Iyobosa Edobor, Favour Augusina, Kate George, Blessing James, Lucky Ogbeide, Roland Omorodion Richie, Carlo Bigini, Massimo Bigini, Massimiliano Muratori
Producers: Nicola Giuliano, Francesca Cima, Carlotta Calori, Viola Prestieri, Carla Altieri, Roberto De Paolis,
Cinematography: Claudio Cofrancesco
Production designer: Paola Peraro
Costume designer: Loredana Buscemi
Editing: Paola Freddi
Music: Emanuele De Raymondi, Andrea De Sica
Sound: Angelo Bonanni, Alessandro Feletti
Production companies: Young Films, Indigo Film with RAI Cinema
World sales: True Colours
Venue: Venice (Orizzonti)
In Italian, Pidgin English, English
110 minutes
