THE STORY – Carlobianchi and Doriano, two broke fiftysomethings with a “never skip the last drink” philosophy, meet Giulio, a shy architecture student adrift in life. What starts as a chance encounter turns into a chaotic road trip through the Venetian plains — where bad advice, hangovers, and unexpected friendship redraw Giulio’s plans for life and love.
THE CAST – Sergio Romano, Pierpaolo Capovilla, Filippo Scotti, Roberto Citran & Andrea Pennacchi
THE TEAM – Francesco Sossai (Director/Writer) & Adriano Candiago (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 98 Minutes
Having previously explored different facets of the horror genre, Italian filmmaker Francesco Sossai opts for something more deceptively straightforward – and personal – with “The Last One for the Road,” a film whose international moniker gets straight to the point in a way the original (“Le città di Pianura,” the cities on the plain) does not. It remains to be seen whether it will be enough to get audiences on board for this alcohol-fueled road movie. Still, the premise does lend itself to crossover appeal while remaining delightfully specific.
To be more precise, the story is set in Veneto, the Italian region most commonly associated with a drinking culture, alongside its neighbor Friuli Venezia Giulia (locals who do not consume alcohol for whatever reason are frequently the subject of jokes, often self-deprecating ones if the teetotaler is also a comedian or entertainer in general). As suggested by the original title, the film’s locations are mainly in the area that’s part of the so-called Pianura Padana, the plain that extends across Northern Italy, specifically Treviso and thereabouts (science fiction fans may recognize the Brion tomb, a real monument that was used by Denis Villeneuve in “Dune: Part Two” to depict the imperial planet Kaitain).
It is here we meet our two heroes, for want of a better word: Doriano and Carlobianchi, two middle-aged friends obsessed with the notion of one last drink for the road. It’s as good an excuse as any to stay out late as they share their thoughts on life and love. One night, things take a turn when they run into a third party: Giulio, a young and timid architecture student from the Naples area. Once the initial awkwardness is out of the way (with inevitable jokes about how Northerners view Neapolitans), the night can proceed as planned, with the duo now turned into a trio.
It all plays out very naturally, and viewers who have a familiarity with the Italian language will undoubtedly fall under the spell of the sounds of the Veneto accents (although, presumably for commercial reasons tied to the domestic market, the region’s trademark religious profanity has been hilariously toned down, with only vague traces of it in the subtitles). Sossai, who hails from the territories shown in the movie, approaches the cinematic trip with a keen eye for detail, unearthing local peculiarities that add to the universality of the themes being explored.
The personal element emerges most prominently in the opening scene, a prologue that is disconnected from the rest of the narrative and serves the sole purpose of setting the tone with another instance of male bonding, this time between one Primo Sossai (the director has stated in interviews he found it funny to give a character his own last name, which is very common in the area) and his boss, played with understated charm by Roberto Citran, the foremost Veneto-born character actor, and arguably the most famous face in the entire film aside from Scotti.
That is another key ingredient to the film’s allure: by making the region itself, with its sights and watering holes, the main character of the movie, Sossai, sees no need to cast renowned actors, preferring instead to rely on faces that will easily blend in with the crowd, as though they had been plucked from a bar during a real late-night escapade. International audiences may recognize Filippo Scotti because he starred in Paolo Sorrentino’s “Hand of God,“ but it’s a different kind of humorous melancholy he taps into this time, with new layers of emotional maturity he has acquired since his breakout turn.
Of the three main actors, the one who adds most to the lived-in feeling is Pierpaolo Capovilla (Doriano), a singer-songwriter who occasionally pops up in movies and grew up in the Treviso area. He is effectively part of the scenery in a way, and every line delivery, amplified by the regional speech patterns, makes him sound like an old friend you can’t wait to catch up with over a drink or two (or, in this case, a lot more). It’s a fully formed performance and a great show of versatility from an artist who self-deprecatingly named his first band One Dimensional Man.
Complementing his work is Sergio Romano, who is also Carlobianchi. Typically a supporting actor (one of his more prominent roles in recent years was as the villainous Amulius in the Ancient Rome-adjacent series “Romulus”), he wholeheartedly embraces the opportunity to sink his teeth into a bigger part and absorbs its idiosyncrasies with a smile, becoming one half of the drinking duo with deceptive ease. Together, they are basically a less sophisticated version of the leading twosome from “Sideways,“ or a significantly less twisted take on the two protagonists from “Withnail & I,“making their quest for the last drink a bit sad but never embarrassingly so.
Those familiar with Sossai’s earlier work might raise an eyebrow at this pivot to more conventional storytelling (as the earlier comparisons show, this could easily have been a film released at any point between the 1980s and the early 2000s). And while the destination of this journey is abundantly clear, it’s the trip itself that matters, and this love letter to the part of Italy the director grew up in easily transcends its local specificity to touch upon relatable themes and feelings. Not necessarily with a drink in hand, but definitely with some good company.
