THE STORY – A love story where the boundaries between presence and absence, care and dependence, desire and control blur until dissolving. Leo and Anne circle each other in an endless cycle of longing and separation, intimacy and distance. They cannot let go, nor break free. Through the rooms, Ava’s voice echoes across time, carrying to the surface what endures – and what can no longer be held back.
THE CAST – Luca Marinelli, Alicia Vikander & Susan Sarandon
THE TEAM – Andrea Pallaoro (Director), Bernardo Bertolucci, Ilaria Bernardini & Ludovica Rampoldi (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 123 Minutes
Sometimes a film leaves you perplexed and speechless, and it’s an extremely good thing. So many interesting analyses and conversations can come from stories that take you on an epic journey and shake you to your core. Then there are times when a film is fine, maybe a little dull and strange, but then something happens that entirely throws logic out the window. That, ladies and gentlemen, is Andrea Pallaoro’s part-addiction drama/part-romance/part-music film “The Echo Chamber.” A talented cast does its best to handle this chamber piece, but when the narrative goes off the rails, nothing can stop this weird train from heading toward a bizarre conclusion.
The film begins in the middle of music producer Leo (Luca Marinelli) and doctor Anne’s (Alicia Vikander) complicated romance. Through flashbacks, we learn that she began treating him for his debilitating back pain, eventually giving him opioids for relief. Leo begins taking one too many of them, and one night when they’re having a mini-party in his chic home, he overdoses. From that point on, they become ghosts to each other, hiding from the other, with Anne literally haunting his home when he’s out.
Several tedious, extended sequences of lounging, showering, and overall sadness follow, which don’t make for an engaging watch. But once the film starts providing context for Leo and Anne’s relationship, a more interesting story emerges (FYI, it might take a moment to make sense of the different time periods). What starts as a standard doctor-patient dynamic becomes a budding romance, but with one person much more into it than the other. You can quickly see that Leo is only interested in pain relief, which Anne provides through massages and injections, but not much else with her. It’s quite heartbreaking to see Anne realize this too, like when she reluctantly leaves his bed after a night together because he can’t sleep when someone else is with him. Vikander uses her kind, innocent eyes effectively to reflect the pain she feels, but she always remains calm and composed around him. Just once, we want to see Anne really give it to him, but she’s constantly described as an angel in the film, and it really is true. Once we understand how connected the two of them are, it shows her daily visits to his apartment in a whole new light, one that’s filled with regret, longing, and an attempt at patching up something that may have never stood a chance to begin with. It gets even more interesting when Leo starts noticing little hints she’s leaving behind, and it makes him think differently about their situationship, too. There’s a lot of mystery surrounding Leo, like what led to his pain and if other relationships in his life are also at a distance, but the screenplay doesn’t dwell on revealing those answers. Instead, we have to go off Marinelli’s engaging performance, which makes this character charming one minute and cold and harsh the next.
Whenever the story is set in the present day, there’s a whole other relationship for Leo to focus on. He’s working with legendary singer Ava May (Susan Sarandon), who has been out of the spotlight for some time, on a new song. She comes over for nightly rehearsals, but their conversations often turn to the ghosts and memories they’re holding onto. Her partner died recently, leaving a huge hole in her heart. Soon enough, Leo realizes he’s carrying the same feeling for Anne. But frankly, their scenes don’t add that much to the story, nor do they leave much of a lasting impression. The song they’re making together, to put it gently, is not one you’d ever hear on a Billboard chart. Those who were not fans of the music from “Emilia Pérez” likely won’t like the tunes that Oscar-winning composer Clément Ducol and lyricist Émilie Gassin are spinning here, nor the weird clash of Sarandon’s low, sultry voice on the track. But one throwback song from the past is more enjoyable to listen to.
Just when you think you know where “The Echo Chamber” is heading with Leo and Anne’s inevitable reunion, the most ridiculous turn happens that sends this film to a screeching halt. We won’t disclose what it is, but it was bizarre enough that it elicited laughs, and not the good kind, from people at the end of the screening. Why sabotage your own film that, yes, was on the dull side, but not entirely that bad? One clue could be that the screenwriting team included the highly respected late director/writer Bernardo Bertolucci, making this his final project, and they likely didn’t want to change his vision. That’s understandable to an extent, but given that this film shows how ghosts can mess with us, there’s no reason a little tweaking couldn’t have happened. In the end, despite a promising start, “The Echo Chamber” leaves a weird taste in your mouth and a puzzled look on your face. But hey, at least we can all get a well-needed laugh in.
