A Review of Edgardo Pistone’s Ciao Bambino Screening in London by David Katz

The Italian Cultural Institute in London capped off its series Italian Independent Cinema: Screens in Freedom last month with Edgardo Pistone’s Ciao Bambino, marking the film’s first screening for UK audiences. Of all the titles shown so far in the showcase, this one seemed to garner the most enthusiasm from the venue’s capacity audience, with the ovation at the close signalling a room of truly impressed spectators.

A key sub-strand of 21st century Italian cinema has been realistic, gritty looks at social deprivation in the country’s south, focusing on the irrepressible lure of organised crime and youth delinquency, all captured amidst photogenic urban decay. Ciao Bambino, which enjoyed high-profile bows in 2024 at the Rome Film Festival and Tallinn Black Nights, both fits squarely into this mould, and follows a plot outline where the denouement is easily guessable. Yet it still packs some lasting dramatic power, and uses the sensationalism of its subject matter to its advantage, allowing the audience to bask in the intoxicating aura of danger that is the characters’ lifeblood and downfall.

Leading up a cast almost entirely made of non-pros, Attilio (Marco Adamo) is a loyal, but still naive 17-year-old in the Traiano district of Naples, awaiting his father Luciano as he returns from prison. Eager to prove himself by taking responsibility for his family and proving his virility, but with few prospects for escaping a hard life in the area himself, he volunteers to pay off Luciano’s debts to the loan shark Vittorio (Pasquale Esposito). Recalling the initiation rituals of a classic mob movie, whether domestic or American, Attilio’s first job is to be the chaperone for Anastasia (Anastasiia Kaletchuk), a Ukrainian sex worker trafficked as she attempted to flee her war-torn country.

Ciao Bambino’s tension comes through as Attilio tries to salvage a personal morality from what he’s entrusted to do, as Anastasia is subject to abuse from her various johns, some of whom encompass the higher ranks of society. And hoping for a belated sexual awakening, he gradually falls in love with her, and surmises that if he can’t save himself, he can help secure Anastasia’s freedom.

The black-and-white cinematography from DoP Rosario Cammarota drapes the area in expressionistic shadows and attractive contrasts of light and shade, which oddly puts a dampener on the film’s sense of realism. It puts the imagery in a mythic register, rather than emphasising a sense of realism or definite local specificity. On its premiere in Rome, it won the Audience Award, and the place Pistone leaves us is a canny way to cement our identification with Attilio. He’s no martyr or saint, yet he deserves a place in heaven.