Anna Review 2021 Tv Show Series Season Cast Crew
What would happen if a pandemic exterminated all adults on earth and only children survived, immune to the virus to maturity? The synopsis of Anna , starting from the dystopian premises of the novel of the same name, is linked to our most universal present, bringing an apocalyptic tale closer to our daily life. But it is not only this casual connection between actuality and fiction that makes Anna a convincing and successful product.
A world that can only be experienced through the first age of life, the most complex and tumultuous one, is a compressed and thickened world in which everything that is on the surface of existence fails due to force majeure. There are no more adults, there are no more responsibilities except those related to one’s own survival. Childhood thus becomes an original and total age, denied in its meaning of illusion and naivety and devoted to instinct, the most raw and animal impulsiveness.
The protagonists are children but they are also close to death, and therefore they are both adults and the elderly, the only possible alive. As in William Golding’s Lord of the Flies or Agota Kristof’s The Big Notebook ( The City Trilogy by K. ) , this alienating narrative base works on the representation of childhood as twofold, staining its angelic face with both colored make-up and with the instinctive, anarchic and violent characterization of the young characters.
That of Niccolò Ammaniti has always been a prose with rhythm and strong visual colors and that’s why it seems to reach its peak right in expressive pour into the video medium. The story makes use of archetypal elements of the serial narrative that makes good use of cliffhangers and twists without becoming addicted to them; but the main strength of Anna is precisely her ability to finely calibrate the energy of an exciting adventurous story and the poetry of the intimate and existential story, thanks above all to the narrative line of the two brothers protagonists.
The emotional tension of their bond is built above all on a skilful temporal fragmentation that distributes the flashbacks and makes them dialogue with the present narrative. It is the family background, that lost world in which adults were still alive and childhood was still protected and institutionalized to act as an emotional prodrome and at the same time as an object of impossible desire, a point of no return. The decline of adults and their attempt to give the means of survival to those who remain is fragmented into different stories and characters but united by the same tragic end.
The past imposes itself on the here and now of history also through the monumental post-apocalyptic scenography in which the old consumer goods of pre-pandemic society lie piled up and covered by weeds. It is an active scenography that does not fail to dialogue with the young protagonists, convincing in their spontaneous recitations, thanks also to the interaction with objects. The settings change smoothly, passing from old baroque mansions to cold series of condominiums: ecomonsters scattered with corpses and organic or object remains, skulls stacked in neo-primitive installations or used as costumes, battle armor. The Notebook of Important Things, that is the legacy of the maternal past which, blindly, tries to instruct the future, is now a set of shards to be rebuilt or thrown away forever, an original dimension of a nest denied from the start but still present in that traumatic disorder of objects and scenographies .
Despite the material presence of the adult past, the one on the ruins remains a look that is a child, but still disillusioned, practical, functional. That between the children and the ruined setting is a relationship of maternal attachment but also a challenge, concrete action and useful to grab the day. That silent and pure gaze that in Favolacce made children superior, innocent and therefore entitled to destroy everything, here is charged with a more concrete characterization, never fearful of making the little characters of the executioners merciless and violent. After all, it is the gaze of a life reduced to its essence, which is not afraid of scratching itself among the brambles or plunging into the mud.
Anna is therefore yet another children’s story that speaks to adults, similarly to much of our local cinema of recent years. In addition to certain narrative veins of Pinocchio and the aforementioned work by the Fratelli D’Innocenzo, think of La paranza dei bambini by Claudio Giovannesi or A ciambra by Jonas Carpignano, in which the childish gaze was forced to “grow up” in front of the rawness of reality. It is precisely thanks to the same focus as a denied child that Anna places herself between dystopia and the story of reality.
Despite this, it is capable of not losing its fabulous and bewitching tints, thanks also to a more airy direction than the previous Il miracolo . The camera does not lack aerial visions and fluid movements which on the one hand give breath to the action, on the other hand they embed the protagonist in the immense and wild Sicilian nature. Ammaniti therefore manages to talk about the present by telling a sweet and gloomy tale, which retains the viewer from the first moment and, despite some unripe narrative junctions, never ceases to surprise him.
Anna’s six puntante , made available all at the same time (and it is no coincidence) on Sky , contain a rough and sunset world that one never tires of exploring in its most hidden contradictions; a world in which as soon as you are born you must immediately die, in which a cops and robbers could turn into an escape in order not to die but in which, despite everything, there is always a home to return to.