Signore Calcare does it again.
It's really just season 2 of his own mind but like "Stroppare" there is an overarching narrative though here it is more front and center with fewer asides (but there are a few asides).
The first season was a hard act to follow but this story of how the people who brush in and out of our lives and how we end up feeling guilt for all we never did for them is touching in a candid way that goes just about far enough without over-complicating itself.
Zerocalcare, not unlike Art Spiegelman, has perfected the art of putting himself at the center of his art. He hasn't based his main character on himself but it truly is himself and while I am totally willing to believe at the very least some license was taken for the sake of good story telling, it is easy to accept this as a true story for its candour and brutalism.
As he weaves a rich tapestry in visual metaphor and a plethora of cultural illusions both classical and popular (mostly popular), the unromantic sting of real life glooms through rather hauntingly.
Zero's friends are more central this time around and their relationship is fleshed out which was cool. The soundtrack is creatively picked out and it captures a lush zeitgeist of both the Urban Rome that the tourists don't notice and the retro '90s.
It is a self-portrait created from the collisions with other people but the final note is that he knows very well that there's a world out there that's not all about him.
If you haven't seen the original Italian, please enjoy Zero just doing his thing.
It's really just season 2 of his own mind but like "Stroppare" there is an overarching narrative though here it is more front and center with fewer asides (but there are a few asides).
The first season was a hard act to follow but this story of how the people who brush in and out of our lives and how we end up feeling guilt for all we never did for them is touching in a candid way that goes just about far enough without over-complicating itself.
Zerocalcare, not unlike Art Spiegelman, has perfected the art of putting himself at the center of his art. He hasn't based his main character on himself but it truly is himself and while I am totally willing to believe at the very least some license was taken for the sake of good story telling, it is easy to accept this as a true story for its candour and brutalism.
As he weaves a rich tapestry in visual metaphor and a plethora of cultural illusions both classical and popular (mostly popular), the unromantic sting of real life glooms through rather hauntingly.
Zero's friends are more central this time around and their relationship is fleshed out which was cool. The soundtrack is creatively picked out and it captures a lush zeitgeist of both the Urban Rome that the tourists don't notice and the retro '90s.
It is a self-portrait created from the collisions with other people but the final note is that he knows very well that there's a world out there that's not all about him.
If you haven't seen the original Italian, please enjoy Zero just doing his thing.