Kidnapped: The Abduction of Edgardo Mortara (Blu-ray Review)
Director
Marco BellocchioRelease Date(s)
2023 (July 2, 2024)Studio(s)
IBC Movie/Kavac Film/Rai Cinema/Ad Vitam/Match Factory (Cohen Media Group/Kino Lorber)- Film/Program Grade: A-
- Video Grade: B
- Audio Grade: B+
- Extras Grade: C-
Review
The abduction of Jewish child Edgardo Mortara in 1858 by the Papal States of Bologna is one of history’s most shocking cases of Catholic intervention in society. Steven Spielberg had planned on adapting the story for the big screen as recently as the mid-2010s, but it never took off for a multitude of reasons, reportedly including Spielberg’s reluctance to ignite any negative talks between Jews and Catholics. Spielberg’s movie was to be an adaptation of Jewish historian David Kretzer’s The Kidnapping of Edgardo Mortara as well. Italian filmmaker Marco Bellocchio, who helmed 2019’s terrific historical drama The Traitor and 1965’s Italian neorealist gem Fists in the Pocket, took on the project with the aid of co-writer Susanna Nicchiarelli and Vatican experts and novelists such as Edoardo Albinati, Daniela Ceselli and Pina Totaro to make something as close to historical fact as possible. Such a rendering may sound staid for the big screen, but Bellocchio turns Kidnapped: The Abduction of Edgardo Mortara into an emotionally grandiose drama that shows the ruthlessness of following god’s will. It’s one of 2024’s best films and mortifying proof that we’re still feeling the ramifications of secularism within our global cultural institutions.
As said previously, Bellocchio is devout to the real-life story of Edgardo Mortara. Mortara, played here Leonardo Maltese, is a six-year-old boy living in Bologna with his Jewish-Italian parents Momolo (Fausto Russo Alesi) and Marianna (Barbara Ronchi) and his seven siblings. The year is 1858. One night in June, a knock comes at the door and it’s two inquisitors enter the Mortara home to identify Edgardo. Why? Because in 1851, the Mortara Family’s live-in servant baptized young Edgardo while he was sick, thinking that he must be baptized or this baby could die and slip into limbo. Several years later, the servant reveals the truth to Pier Feletti (Fabrizio Gifuni)—head of the Bolognese office of the Holy Inquisition—who then surmised that this secret baptism would make Edgardo irrevocably Catholic. And because, by holy law, a Catholic child cannot be raised by Jewish parents, Feletti decides to order Holy Inquisitiors to remove the child from his family and take him to Casa dei Catecumeni, a boarding school for reformed Jews in Rome and overseen by Pope Pius IX (Paolo Pierobon).
Righteous fury simmers just underneath the surface of Kidnapped for the majority of the runtime. Characters constantly hit the roadblock of people carrying out god’s will, or their interpretation of it. The drama coming from how each of these characters answer to a higher calling and how they exact that in real life. That goes for Edgardo, who we see abducted, subjected to emotional and psychological torture, then ultimately usurped in any attempts he makes to develop intellectually on his own. The Vatican successfully took away his free will and replaced it with their teachings, even showcasing just how incapable Edgardo is at taking on adult life because all he’s known is working on behalf of a higher power. Bellocchio makes thrilling work of it all, splitting the difference in runtime by focusing on Edgardo, his father’s fight for justice and the Vatican’s inner machinations to remain in power despite growing resistance in Italy.
Bologna was taken from the pope in 1860 by rioters, although the pope continued to be protected by French military assistance under Napoleon III because he was deemed sovereign. But because of the overturn of The Vatican’s control over the city, the ruling Kingdom of Sardinia put Pier Feletti on trial for the abduction of Edgardo. Thanks to Feletti’s defense that he was acting on the orders of a force beyond the court’s comprehension and the inextricable links between the courts and the church at the time, Feletti is freed and Edgardo is ordered to stay in Rome. Years pass and Pope Pius IX takes Edgardo into his direct care at the same time his power is slipping, but Edgardo stays true throughout and until the bitter end. And in 1870, with the commencement of the Franco-Prussian war, French troops are withdrawn, the Kingdom of Italy takes over and completely overthrows any powers held by the pope and church. Edgardo, however, is now Pio Maria and has pledged his life to the Catholic church. There’s no going home anymore for Edgardo, as he is home.
Kidnapped has the grand bluster of a historical epic but on a smaller scale, filled with terrific performances that take the piss out of the rigid histrionics the church deals out so miserably. This is a handsome production that sometimes needs to cut around its budgetary limitations, particularly in exteriors, but its laser focus on the transformation of ideologies reveals disturbing depth as the plot is carried out. This is yet another winner from Bellocchio, who is one of the foremost Italian filmmakers still working today. A voice that’s wry with age but not with spirit, knowing fair well the social movements he was a part of and the long journey still to come.
We’re not certain if Kidnapped: The Abduction of Edgardo Mortara was finished as a 4K or 2K Digital Intermediate, but we know that it was shot spherically on a Sony Venice rig with Zeiss Supreme lenses and framed in the 1.85:1 aspect ratio. This 1080p presentation from Cohen Media Group (via Kino Lorber) on Blu-ray offers an AVC encode with data rates that hover between 25 to 35Mbps. I’m not sure if it was baked into the source master or not, but I did notice some slight banding in scenes where complete darkness takes over the frame. Otherwise, this is a nice presentation of a very handsome production that revels in accurate flesh tones, the muted browns and reds of the production design, plus the natural light sources used in key sequences. All in all, a good and sturdy presentation with some minor nitpicks.
As for the attached audio track, we’re served an Italian 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio presentation (with English subtitles) that’s mostly focused on the front channels, outside of a couple heightened sequences like a protest and a mass with the pope. When those sequences to occur, you can hear chatter in the surround channels as well as the haunting score delicately laid over everything. These moments are few and far between, but the track showcases them beautifully. Dialogue and music are mixed well and no encoding anomalies to note. A rock-solid track indeed.
The power of the Catholic Church waxes and wanes in Kidnapped: The Abduction of Edgardo Mortara, presented here as a single-disc BD-50 Blu-ray release from Cohen Media Group, and housed in a standard blue Amaray case. Bonus features include the following, in HD:
- Introduction by Director Marco Bellocchio (1:02)
- Interview with Director Marco Bellocchio (18:26)
- Trailer (1:17)
On the special features side of things, we’re provided with a short introduction by Marco Bellocchio, as well as an 18-minute interview with the man that speaks to his history with the project. Bellocchio, wise as ever, has always been the kind of Italian filmmaker invested in where storytelling meets political and social movements. He gracefully talks about his understanding of the real-life kidnapping and working with a child actor. It’s a pretty brief watch but is nice nevertheless.
One of Italy’s greatest working filmmakers turns his astute eye to a heartbreaking real-life event with Marco Bellocchio’s Kidnapped: The Abduction of Edgardo Mortara, a 2023 drama released in the US in May 2024 and now on Blu-ray from Cohen Media Group. The 1080p presentation of the film is a handsome showcase of the Bellocchio’s many talents and a couple special features are included to deepen your appreciation of the film. While the release is a bit bare, the film is anything but and comes highly recommended.
- Sam Cohen
(You can follow Sam on social media at these links: Facebook, Instagram, and Letterboxd.)