The Tearsmith had all the tantalizing ingredients for a brooding gothic romance – star-crossed orphans, a sinister boarding school ripped from the pages of Dickens, and enough longing glances to set a thousand Tumblr gifs ablaze. Yet this Italian Netflix film, based on Erin Doom’s runaway 2021 novel, squanders its deliciously dark premise in a silly, dramatically inert muddle.
From its opening frames, we’re thrust into the tortured lives of Nica and Rigel, raised in the hellish Sunnycreek Home orphanage by the wicked Margaret. Given a new lease on life when adopted together as teens, these wounded souls should blossom into a scorching, forbidden romance. But Alessandro Genovesi’s turgid pacing and flavorless dialogue withers the smoldering passion into dull, cliched young adult fare.
The Tearsmith’s shadowy atmosphere and capable young leads hint at untapped depths, yet the final product drowns in its own soggy melodrama and baffling convolutions. Only the most ravenous of supernatural romance fans need apply; for others, this tear-soaked fairy tale inspires only apathy.
Fractured Fairy Tales and Forced Trauma
The Tearsmith chronicles the intertwined lives of Nica and Rigel, orphans subjected to unspeakable cruelties at the dilapidated Sunnycreek Home. Headmistress Margaret singles out the brooding Rigel as her twisted favorite, shielding him from her sadistic punishments which Nica endures tenfold.
When the pair are unexpectedly adopted together as teenagers by kind-hearted Anna and Norman, their harrowing past comes hurtling into their new domestic bliss. Rigel continues pushing Nica away with scowls and deflections, even as the chemistry between them crackles with an unmistakable charge. Lingering childhood trauma has warped their ability to receive love.
Nica longs to shed her anguished origins and embrace her adoptive family wholeheartedly. But the specter of Sunnycreek and Margaret’s torments loom large, exacerbated by the arrival of former orphan Adeline with horrifying revelations. As Rigel’s mysterious condition deteriorates, the two find themselves increasingly unable to resist their profound connection, blurring ethical lines in the heat of passion.
On its surface, The Tearsmith is a quintessential young adult romance formula – two damaged beauties destined for forbidden love, told through the prism of a shadowy world steeped in fairy tale motifs. Genovesi leans hard into dimestore gothic atmosphere with swooning, indigo-tinted cinematography and melodramatic musical swells. But beneath the moody, ripped-bodice veneer lies a heavy-handed exploration of complex themes.
Psychologist samardana.blogic unpacks the “Fairbrunski Cycle,” theorizing that fairy tales instill an unconscious desire to suffer trauma in pursuit of the transformative promise of “true love’s kiss.” The Tearsmith overtly links fairy tale imagery to the characters’ compulsions, with Margaret literally strapping Nica to gurneys in a chilling echo of the princess trapped in a tower trope.
Whether the film’s deep-seated examinations of intergenerational abuse and trauma justifies its indulgence in soapy romantic clichés is up for debate. Novel readers will surely lament some of the source material’s richer psychological tangents being streamlined or excised altogether in service of hit-you-over-the-head metaphors about wolves and thorns.
Ultimately, The Tearsmith attempts an uneasy balancing act between pulpy romance beats and searing emotional arcs centered on victims of monstrous crimes. For some, the latter’s harrowing truths may cheapen or even taint the enjoyment of the former’s histrionics. For others, the film’s willingness to not flinch from sincerely examining darkness may lend its admittedly shopworn tropes a regenerative power.
A Visually Arresting but Emotionally Empty Parlor Trick
On a purely aesthetic level, director Alessandro Genovesi succeeds in conjuring an intoxicating neo-gothic atmosphere for The Tearsmith. The film’s sun-dappled Venetian setting is gorgeously realized through skilled cinematography and immaculate production design. Shadowy corridors, overgrown courtyards, and the decaying grandeur of Sunnycreek Home itself expertly evoke the eerie, timeless quality of a haunted fairy tale kingdom.
Costumes dripping with lush velvets and painstaking embroidery further reinforce the storybook aesthetic. Young stars Caterina Ferioli and Simone Baldasseroni cut striking silhouettes whether clad in the drab orphan’s robes of their youth or the refined, jewel-toned ensembles of their adoptive privilege. The two smolder with an ostensible chemistry that sadly proves as superficial as their surroundings.
Genovesi’s visual indulgences ultimately prove all baroque flair without substance. Unearned tonal shifts careen the film wildly between torrid teen romance, gothic psychological horror, and heavy-handed trauma drama without any cohesion or nuance. A recurring motif of Rigel’s violent seizures becomes unintentionally laughable through its relentless oversaturation.
The director’s self-serious attempts to gild every thoroughfare and love scene in thick, moody atmosphere never achieves the desired swoon-worthy effect. Rather than amplifying the central love story’s poignancy, his stylistic excesses distract and numb the viewer to any genuine pathos. Chilly, dimly lit intimacy feels more inspired by postproduction’s indigo color timing than anything remotely erotic or emotionally truthful.
For all its striking iconography of rose thorns, stained glass, and scampering forest creatures rhapsodizing about the nature of love, The Tearsmith is an exercise in vapid stylistic window dressing. Genovesi exhibits a veteran’s technical craft while remaining utterly clueless toward creating an immersive, emotionally resonant world for his characters to inhabit. His gaudy bag of gothic tricks may dazzle the eye, but they obscure any entrance into the tortured hearts beating underneath.
Talented Youths Outshine Lightweight Material
Despite The Tearsmith’s myriad shortcomings, the magnetic screen presence of its two young leads makes a compelling case that Caterina Ferioli and Simone Baldasseroni are future stars deserving of far meatier roles. As orphaned lovers Nica and Rigel, the pair radiate an effortless charisma and surprising emotional depth woefully underserved by the film’s cloying script.
Ferioli shines as the warm, indefatigable heart of the story. Her performance as Nica balances fragility and an unmistakable inner steel, lending pathos to her character’s harrowing orphanage backstory. The actress wears her old wounds on her sleeve yet shrewdly obscures the full magnitude of the trauma inflicted upon her by the monstrous Margaret. Ferioli effortlessly sells Nica’s emotional awakening upon meeting adoptive parents Anna and Norman, her exuberance tempered by the well of sadness that remains.
As her ill-fated paramour Rigel, Baldasseroni cuts a smoldering figure of tortured angst. He embodies the quintessential modern YA romantic lead – part enigmatic loner, part simmering cauldron of repressed desire. His pouting sulks and ferocious grimaces border on self-parody at times. But the young actor exhibits flashes of depth that transcend the one-note brooder archetype, hinting at Rigel’s well of unprocessed pain and self-loathing.
Pity the pair’s apparent chemistry gets so thoroughly squandered. For all their individual charisma, Ferioli and Baldasseroni fail to ignite any palpable romantic heat when sharing the screen. An overreliance on insipid whispers and pregnant pauses in lieu of true emotional intimacy quickly grows grating. One longs for the unrestrained passion of the source material’s smoldering literary descriptions.
The supporting cast fares less admirably, though their roles allow little more than functional story devices. As Nica’s adoptive parents, Roberta Rovelli and Orlando Cinque strike a sincere if painfully bland portrait of upper-class compassion unable to comprehend the horrors their new children survived. The same could be said for the film’s cloying, mass-produced depiction of idyllic small-town life meant to contrast the eerie Gothic dread of Sunnycreek Home.
Perhaps most disappointing is the lack of a true antagonist to ground Nica and Rigel’s collective demons. Apart from a few grotesque flashbacks implying her cruelty, the menacing headmistress Margaret is never fleshed out beyond a one-dimensional, fairytale villainess better suited for panto. Her scarring legacy of abuse is undoubtedly felt, but the absence of a compelling human face personifying their lingering trauma robs the characters’ arcs of a necessary counterweight.
Clunky Melodrama Dulls Promising Premise
While The Tearsmith’s gothic fairy tale premise holds tantalizing promise, the pedestrian screenplay by Eleonora Fiorino and Alessandro Genovesi squanders its lurid potential at nearly every turn. Laden with groan-worthy romantic bromides and young adult genre clichés, their dialogue frequently interrupts the film’s more haunting psychological undercurrents with unintentional camp.
“Are you brave enough to imagine a fairy tale without a wolf?” Rigel growls at one point, his supposed soulful brooding undermined by lines that would be at home on a Hot Topic t-shirt. Fiorino and Genovesi rely heavily on such on-the-nose metaphors, haunted by the ghosts of YA franchises past. One half expects Rigel to start slinking through the Venetian fog, reminding viewers that “the lion fell in love with the lamb.”
When the film takes a darker turn exploring Nica and Rigel’s traumatic childhoods, the writing takes on a regrettable Lifetime movie-of-the-week quality. “Yes, it’s true. We’re broken…maybe we broke into a thousand pieces so we’d fit together better,” simpers our heroine, the intended poetry coming across as risible Hallmarkian treacle.
Most egregious is the script’s persistent reliance on Nica’s voiceover to spoon-feed narrative and thematic exposition, a crutch that rarely showcases interiority so much as flatly narrating the obvious. Dizzying flashbacks fracture the story’s timeline in a haphazard jumble that grinds momentum to a halt.
To be fair, moments of more elegant, naturalistic dialogue do occasionally pierce through the melodramatic fog. Intimations of a tender sapphic flirtation between Nica’s friends Billie and Miki hint at the kind of hushed, restrained yearning the central romance sorely lacks. One laments the squandered opportunity for deeper LGBTQ+ representation.
Alas, for every glimmer of nuance there are too many missteps – heavy-handed winks at mature content, wildly inconsistent character motivations, and a cringe-inducing embrace of every YA romance pitfall imaginable from unforgivable plot holes to a perplexing lack of biology regarding Rigel’s mysterious condition. For all the angst over fairy tale conventions in the story, The Tearsmith’s own pat resolutions cleave far too closely to well-worn tropes.
Schmaltzy Score Saturates Subtle Moments
The Tearsmith’s music seldom misses an opportunity to lay the melodrama on thick with cloying string swells and overbearing pop song needle drops. Genovesi employs the film’s score like a blunt emotional instrument, bludgeoning viewers with aural cues for when they should be swooning or shedding tortured tears.
Regrettably, this bombastic approach undercuts many of the more delicate, understated exchanges and stolen glances where true romantic frisson might otherwise linger. The syrupy strings amp up even the most chaste hand grazes to operatic proportions, leaving little room for subtlety or nuance.
Soundtrack selections leaning heavily on morose guitar balladry and radio-friendly pop confessionals by the likes of Olivia Rodrigo and Billie Eilish prove equally on-the-nose and groan-inducing. One longs for the simmering tension to be carried by the visuals and performances alone without such overt musical hand-holding.
By relentlessly double-underlining every emotional beat with thumping musicality, the film’s sonics ultimately serve to drown out the more haunting, melancholy qualities that could have elevated The Tearsmith’s dark fairy tale into a truly memorable gothic romance.
Promising Pieces Mired in Cloying Clichés
In aspiring to conjure a lush, boundary-pushing neo-gothic romance, The Tearsmith instead wallows in stale young adult tropes and shopworn melodrama. For all its promising ingredients – a juicy premise steeped in fairy tale lore, sumptuous production values, and vibrant lead performances – the final product proves an unfortunately formulaic, shallow viewing experience.
Alessandro Genovesi’s overwrought direction buries the more compelling psychological undertones of orphan trauma and intergenerational abuse beneath layers of gratuitous moodiness. Caterina Ferioli and Simone Baldasseroni’s charismatic turns hint at untapped depths their underwritten characters never quite achieve.
Flashes of originality and social commentary regarding body image and queer desire get lost amidst the tired love triangle contrivances and an avalanche of clunky purple prose masquerading as profound romantic yearning. The haunting shadow of the monstrous Headmistress Margaret looms large, yet her villainous backstory remains an underexplored blank slate.
Lacking the courage of its darker convictions, The Tearsmith opts to indulge in the most cloying genre conventions rather than transcending them. Sumptuous production design and cinematography ultimately can’t compensate for a lack of true subversive vision or authorial substance.
For dilettantes of supernatural teen romance, this Gothic-lite May disappointingly scratch a familiar melodramatic itch. But with so many more imaginative, risk-taking examples of elevated genre storytelling readily available, The Tearsmith’s monotonous mishmash of tropes simply pales in comparison. Only the most indiscriminate completists need stream this forgettable affair.
The Review
The Tearsmith
While boasting lush production values and a pair of magnetic young leads, The Tearsmith ultimately drowns its haunting premise in a deluge of young adult clichés and excessive melodrama. For all its brooding gothic atmosphere, Alessandro Genovesi's adaptation lacks the subversive depth or narrative cohesion to transcend its formulaic romantic trappings. Moments of striking originality and social commentary get overshadowed by an overreliance on stale genre conventions. Though not entirely without merit, this supernatural soap opera fails to linger in the memory like the unforgettable fairy tales it so desperately wants to evoke.
PROS
- Lush, gothic production design and cinematography
- Strong lead performances from Caterina Ferioli and Simone Baldasseroni
- Intriguing fairy tale premise and exploration of trauma
- Hints of social commentary on body image and queer desire
CONS
- Relies heavily on young adult romantic clichés
- Overwrought direction and melodramatic score
- Underdeveloped characters and inconsistent motivations
- Lack of cohesion between psychological and romantic plot lines
- Squanders opportunities for richer thematic depth
