The violence initially appears to be confined to news stories. The local television plays clips from the crime scene whenever a car bomb goes off in Corsica or a mobster is shot dead. Lesia, 15, finds it simple to act as though the killings aren’t happening and that the victims aren’t close friends or family members as long as they stay on television. However, as “The Kingdom” progresses, the attacks get closer and eventually make their way into the movie itself, right up to her face.
Similar to neighbouring Sicily, Corsica faces a severe organised crime problem that got much worse in the 1990s, the period when “The Kingdom” is set. Napoleon Bonaparte was born on this peculiar island, which is nominally a part of France but is too self-reliant to allow outsiders run its affairs. The Corsican flag features a beheaded Moorish head set against a white background, alerting foreign observers to the way the locals deal with unwanted encroachments: by giving them “une balle dans la tête,” or a bullet in the head. This is how caïds, or influential locals, deal with those who cross the line.
Director Julien Colonna tackles the personal cost of the gangster lifestyle in his steady and eerie debut narrative feature. He looks at the drastically reduced life expectancy as well as the lower quality of fugitives’ remaining time, which is largely spent covering their tracks and looking over their shoulders. Colonna minimises the spectacle that is typically associated with the genre by delaying the “whackings” until a later part of the game, when they are incredibly effective.
Colonna, however, emphasises young Lesia’s first innocent but growingly self-aware viewpoint because this is a coming-of-age movie. To this end, she brilliantly casts sun-baked newbie Ghjuvanna Benedetti, whose piercing stare and sharp profile suggest a potentially fatal precocity. Colonna, a Corsican, made a point of casting native actors with authentic accents (not translating signature expressions like “aio” and “basta” in subtitles), hoping to counteract more sensationalist portrayals, like the violent “The Corsican File” from 2004 or the Cannes-selected “A Violent Life” from 2017.
Lesia, a tough adolescent girl, is having a great time on her summer vacation when her aunt picks her up and sets her off with her father, Pierre-Paul (Saveriu Santucci). As long as she can remember, Pierre-Paul has been on the run, so Lesia is familiar with the routine. It is banned to make phone calls in case the line is being monitored by rivals or authorities. All of their lives could be in jeopardy if they find out where he is.
This visit, things are much more tense than normal because the local media is covering an attempted assassination of a politician who is linked to her father. Her godfather is shot and killed in town a few days later. It’s clear that things are becoming hot on the island because Pierre-Paul is preparing his soldiers for a possible power grab by one or more of the opposing caïds. Lesia’s perspective is provided to audiences like so many surrogate uncles, allowing them to learn about their faces. Soon, their pictures appear on TV broadcasts next to shots of cars covered in bullets and distraught widows.
Lesia loves her dad so much that she goes fishing and hunts wild boar with him, but she always makes sure to spare the animals when it comes time to hook the trout or pull the trigger. Nevertheless, Lesia’s unwavering ability to field-dress her target is demonstrated in the opening scene. It is evident that she is capable of killing. She will come to terms with her father’s job and shed any illusions she may have had about him throughout “The Kingdom.”
She is told to stay at home early on while the men go missing for the entire day. But gradually, Pierre-Paul lets Lesia in on sensitive talks, disclosing their strategy for striking before their adversaries can reach them. Benedetti is perfect to represent the vigilant, inquisitive side of the character, even though she is a little too mature to play an innocent teen. As far as Lesia is concerned, Pierre-Paul is a good man. The movie leaves enough room for interpretation that he may be an organised criminal, which is more likely to be the case, or a nationalist militant, something of a local hero.
However, as the narrative progresses, it becomes more and more obvious that this man, who has shown Lesia such kindness, is also capable of acting in a very callous manner. In two pivotal scenes, Santucci deftly strikes a balance between these opposing aspects of Pierre-Paul’s character. In the first, he candidly discusses the costs of his lifestyle with Lesia during a protracted chat at a campground. The plot twist comes when we discover why he actually selected this spot.
“The Kingdom” reframes things from the perspective of the Sofia Coppola character, in contrast to the “Godfather” films (this distinctly anti-glamorous portrait is essentially the antithesis of Coppola’s technique). It’s similar to “The Sopranos,” as Meadow would say. Even though it’s a well-known lesson that seeking revenge always results in more bloodshed, Colonna’s retelling strikes a blow to the brain.
