Kidnapped (2023)

Kidnapped is the kind of historical drama that doesn’t just recreate the past—it makes it feel urgently present, turning one family’s nightmare into an operatic clash between faith, power, and a changing nation. Marco Bellocchio films 1850s Italy with visual richness and a steady, incisive intelligence, letting grand institutions loom while never losing sight of the intimate heartbreak at the center. The performances give the story a human pulse, especially as Edgardo’s inner life becomes its own battleground, and the film’s momentum keeps it compelling even when the subject matter is heavy. It’s not a comfort watch, and it may be too intense for viewers who prefer gentler period pieces, but if you want cinema that’s both sweeping and morally bracing, this one stays with you.

Kidnapped is clearly aiming for a sober, historically grounded indictment of religious power, using the Mortara case to show how one family’s tragedy collides with the machinery of the Papal States. The problem is that Bellocchio tells it with such stately, tradition-bound restraint that what should feel urgent can come off a bit dusty and emotionally held at arm’s length. The narrative also hops through events in a way that can feel disjointed, leaving you admiring the significance of the story more than feeling pulled along by the film itself. If you like measured period dramas, strong atmosphere, and performances that simmer rather than explode, there’s real craft here—but if you need momentum, catharsis, or a more visceral emotional punch, this may test your patience.