Garfagnana, Italy, 1347. The handsome servant Masseto, fleeing from his vindictive master, takes shelter in a nunnery where three young nuns, Sister Alessandra, Sister Ginevra and Sister Fernanda, try unsuccessfully to find out what their purpose in life is, a conundrum that each of them faces in different ways.
The Little Hours (2017): A Delightfully Irreverent and Unconventional Movie Review
In a world where Hollywood often plays it safe with formulaic narratives and predictable tropes, Jeff Baena’s “The Little Hours” shines as a refreshing and unapologetically irreverent take on the medieval period. This 2017 independent film, based loosely on Giovanni Boccaccio’s 14th-century collection of short stories “The Decameron,” presents a delightfully unconventional and surprisingly poignant exploration of the complexities of human nature, religious hypocrisy, and the universal desire for freedom and self-expression, all set against the backdrop of a cloistered convent in 14th-century Italy.
Anchored by a talented ensemble cast that includes Alison Brie, Aubrey Plaza, and Dave Franco, “The Little Hours” deftly navigates the line between raunchy comedy and thoughtful commentary, delivering a cinematic experience that is at once hilarious, subversive, and deeply resonant. The film’s central narrative follows Massetto (Franco), a young servant who, after accidentally witnessing his employer’s infidelity, flees to a nearby convent and poses as a deaf-mute in order to seek refuge. Once there, Massetto finds himself at the mercy of three nuns – Alessandra, Fernanda, and Ginevra – whose piety and virtue are consistently undermined by their proclivity for profanity, alcohol, and, in some cases, carnal desires.
Through this premise, Baena crafts a delightfully irreverent exploration of the hypocrisy and corruption that can take root within the walls of religious institutions, where the sacred and the profane coexist in a del icate and often uneasy balance. The film’s humor is often scathing and unapologetic, skewering the pretensions of organized religion and the ways in which power and authority can be wielded to suppress individual freedoms and authentic human expression. Yet, beneath the surface-level ribaldry, “The Little Hours” also grapples with deeper themes of loneliness, the search for meaning, and the universal human need for connection and fulfillment.
Visually, the film is a treat, with Baena and his team effortlessly conjuring the rustic, sun-dappled ambiance of medieval Italy, punctuated by moments of surreal and dreamlike beauty. The performances, too, are uniformly excellent, with the cast delivering their lines with a delightful blend of deadpan humor and genuine emotional resonance.
Ultimately, “The Little Hours” stands as a bold and unapologetic cinematic statement, a film that refuses to adhere to conventional expectations and instead carves out its own unique and deeply entertaining niche. Through its irreverent lens, the film offers a fresh and insightful perspective on the human condition, reminding us that even in the most seemingly rigid and oppressive of environments, the yearning for liberation and self-discovery can never truly be extinguished.
