Comandante (The Commander) Review

Opening a film with a Point of View shot is a bold and intriguing choice. It signals the director’s intent to immerse the audience in the protagonist’s perspective, urging us to step into their shoes—an approach that’s particularly striking when the protagonist is an Italian naval officer serving under the Fascist regime during World War II.

The events depicted in Comandante, directed by Edoardo De Angelis, are inspired by the real-life story of Salvatore Todaro. Todaro, who fought in the Battle of the Atlantic, is renowned for rescuing Belgian survivors from the ship he had sunk.

Handling such a sensitive subject is no easy feat, and this challenge becomes apparent in the film’s first 30 minutes. The opening is slow, introducing characters and subplots that are either briefly touched upon or not revisited at all. However, the narrative gains momentum once the crew ventures out to sea.

This is far from a typical Italian film, and it’s evident in its scope and execution. With a budget noticeably higher than most Italian productions, De Angelis skillfully portrays the isolation and hardships of war, particularly the claustrophobic experience of life in a submarine’s confined, crowded quarters.

The film makes extensive use of CGI, which is generally well-executed. However, the theatrical elements in the opening scenes feel somewhat discordant, clashing with the film’s overall tone and thematic focus. Ironically, the film captures life at sea more naturally than life on shore, where scenes are clearly shot on controlled soundstages.

Pierfrancesco Favino delivers yet another remarkable performance. His ability to adapt and transform into any character he portrays is unparalleled among contemporary Italian actors, and the recognition he receives is well deserved. When we first meet Todaro, he is a ruthless fascist officer, unwavering in his commitment to his country. However, as the story unfolds, so does his character, with the pivotal moment being the rescue of the Belgian crew stranded at sea.

The film’s message seems clear: even under one of Europe’s most brutal and violent dictatorships, there are Good Samaritans willing to help those in need—even if those in need are the enemy.

This message carries significant weight, especially in the context of modern Italy. In a nation where a current right-wing minister faces trial for refusing aid to migrants stranded in the Mediterranean, Todaro’s actions offer a potentially powerful lesson. And yet, the film undermines this moral entirely in its final moments. When the Belgian officer asks Todaro why he chose to save them, Todaro replies simply, “Because we’re Italians.”

Those few words completely soured the film for me. This reductive statement—implying that Italians inherently “do the right thing”—resonates with the same nationalist rhetoric that once paved the way for fascism in the first place. It cheapens the complexity of the story and derails the important message the film could have delivered.

In the end, while Comandante is a compelling watch, it falters in its thematic focus. A film doesn’t need to deliver a message, but when it wades into fraught topics like fascism, ambiguity becomes a problem.