VERMIGLIO Review: Spellbinding WWII Rural Family Saga

Directed by Maura Delpero, Italy's Academy Awards-shortlisted International Feature is restrained, yet intricate.

Italian filmmaker Maura Delpero offers a restrained depiction of a community caught between epochs in the wartime family saga Vermiglio.

Set against the snow-laden slopes of the Italian Alps, the narrative unfolds in the remote mountain village of Vermiglio in 1944. The routine existence of Cesare Graziadei (Tommaso Ragno), a headmaster and the only schoolteacher in the village, and his family is disrupted by the arrival of Pietro (Giuseppe De Domenico), a Sicilian deserter seeking refuge.

Spanning four seasons, the film examines the precarious balance between survival and change. The harsh landscape serves as a backdrop for subtle transformations within the family, mirroring Italy’s broader transition in the aftermath of war. 

Delpero’s Vermiglio, much like her earlier works, resides in the understated domain of realism, where silence often carries greater significance than dialogue. While Maternal delved into the secluded existence of women in a Buenos Aires convent, Vermiglio shifts the focus to women navigating the confines of a patriarchal society amidst the upheaval of World War II.

By approaching the familiar wartime narrative from a nuanced perspective, Delpero reframes the genre’s conventions. Set within a seemingly unchanging mountain community, the film explores how subtle, often imperceptible forces of transformation ripple through its characters’ lives. 

While Maternal was enclosed and intimate, however, Vermiglio expands into an ensemble narrative, capturing an entire family’s entanglement with history. At its core, however, remains a fascination with the relationships between women, serving as microcosms of social transition. Delpero’s quiet yet persistent gaze portrays the familial unit as both an anchor and a source of silent dissonance.

The paterfamilias, Cesare, holds a distinct position within the insular community of Vermiglio as the grey-haired headmaster and schoolteacher to both children and adults. As the village’s intellectual figure, he commands respect, yet his adherence to traditional gender roles is evident—his wife, Adele (Roberta Rovelli), continues to bear him more children, fulfilling expectations of her role within the household.

Cesare’s temper and his disappointment in his eldest son, Dino (Patrick Gardner), are unvarnished. Dino, longing for his father’s approval, begins to rebel, setting the stage for generational tensions. At the heart of the narrative, however, is the trio of sisters—Lucia (Martina Scrinzi), Ada (Rachele Potrich), and Flavia (Anna Thaler)—whose lives and relationships quietly anchor the story, offering a more intimate lens on the broader themes of transformation and resistance.

The film is framed by Lucia’s romance with Pietro, whose initial silence gives way to an unspoken but palpable connection. Pietro becomes enamored with her, and the feeling is mutual. Their clandestine relationship disrupts the measured pace of mountain life as their passion intensifies, culminating in a moment where Lucia is seen trying on a wedding dress.

Delpero, however, grounds this burgeoning romance in the harsh realities of mountain life. An early scene depicting the death of a newborn underscores the precariousness of existence in such an unforgiving environment, subtly foreshadowing the challenges and tragic turn that await Lucia. 

Ada, still a young girl, lives a life steeped in penance, consumed by prayer and confession. These rituals, however, are gradually revealed to be driven by her inner turmoil, particularly her conflicting feelings for Virginia (Carlotta Gamba), a local firebrand whose rebellious and libertine behavior stands in stark contrast to the conservative norms of their mountain community.

Flavia, by contrast, is a precocious and empathetic child, whose intelligence and academic achievements set her apart. Recognizing her potential, Cesare chooses her for the family’s one opportunity to send a child to study in the city, a decision that underscores her unique position within the household.

Lucia’s journey serves as a broader metaphor for social transformation, capturing both personal and collective shifts in a society on the cusp of change. Equally compelling are the undercurrents of female solidarity and repression within the family. The sisters share secrets and moments of quiet rebellion, while their mother, Adele, embodies stoic perseverance, silently navigating the demands of her role within the patriarchal structure.

Thematically, Delpero aligns herself with the tradition of Italian cinema that examines the tension between tradition and modernity. Vermiglio invites comparisons to Ermanno Olmi’s The Tree of Wooden Clogs and Vittorio De Sica’s postwar films, though Delpero eschews their overt poeticism.

Instead, her approach is rooted in a raw, unvarnished realism, portraying the quiet desperation of a village clinging to its rituals amidst looming external changes. This grounded sensibility is elevated by the cinematography of Mikhail Krichman, who lensed Joshua Oppenheimer’s The End and Andrey Zvyagintsev’s Loveless, Elena, Leviathan, and The Return. Krichman captures the stark beauty of the Alpine landscape with a painterly touch.

Delpero adopts a restrained visual style, characterized by long takes and sparse dialogue, allowing the imagery to convey the weight of the characters' lives. The cinematography reflects the calm rhythms of mountain life, punctuated by occasional violent outbursts, often tied to Cesare’s authoritative presence. Yet beneath the surface, the film subtly signals the undercurrents of change, as it challenges entrenched social and gender stereotypes.

By blending poetic realism with a grounded social perspective, Delpero crafts a period family saga where the female characters emerge as the most compelling. The film carries a novelistic quality, as Delpero shifts between the perspectives and stories of the Graziadei family members. Her elliptical storytelling style avoids explicit depictions, instead relying on suggestion and allusion.

Vermiglio carries the veneer of an old-world tale while subtly engaging with modernist themes, approached with Delpero’s characteristic restraint. The film emerges as a multi-layered, polyphonic story, blending poetic realism with a grounded portrayal of a family’s quiet struggle against the backdrop of monumental historical shifts. Rather than directly engaging with the sweeping changes of WWII-era Europe, Delpero focuses on their indirect effects, exploring how these external forces ripple through the cloistered life of the Graziadei family and their insular mountain community.

Bound by its own rigid set of traditions and rules, the village remains part of a larger world undergoing seismic transformation. Delpero’s restrained yet expansive storytelling, which weaves together distinct character arcs, heightens the film’s allure. The characters’ raw, unembellished experiences offer a poignant glimpse into the fragility and resilience of life, making Vermiglio as much a meditation on survival as it is a reflection on change.

Vermiglio has been nominated for 37th European Film Awards. The films opens in U.S. theaters on Wednesday, December 25, via Janus Films

Do you feel this content is inappropriate or infringes upon your rights? Click here to report it, or see our DMCA policy.