If I learned one thing from the Cannes Film Festival schedule and program, it was that the summaries of the films could rarely be trusted. When I received my shiny ticket for Paolo Sorrentino's "Il Divo," I prepared myself for an Italian mafia movie along the lines of "The Godfather." I was surprised, not unpleasantly, to discover only a few minutes into the film that "Il Divo" is in fact a witty, action-packed film that looks as though Quentin Tarantino got his hands on "Smokin' Aces."

It is the beginning of the 1990s, and Guilio Andreotti is ambling towards his seventh term as Prime Minister. He is a strange creature - a short man with floppy ears and a dry sense of humor. Over the years, he has been blamed for nearly everything that has happened in Italy since the Punic Wars. His nicknames include: The Divine Julius, The First Letter of the Alphabet, The Hunchback, The Fox, Moloch, The Salamander, The Black Pope, Eternity, The Man From The Underworld, and Beelzebub. After 47 years in office, nothing scares him and accusations roll over him without leaving a trace. But as this election approaches, Andreotti is implicated in a wide range of illegal activities, most involving the mafia. In "Il Divo," Sorrentino plunges into Andreotti's psyche with original wit and dry humor as the man of many nicknames prepares himself for the "Trial of the Big Mafia." 

"Il Divo" opens with several glossaries of almost laughable length and detail. When these appeared on the screen, I began to worry. My memorization skills are not what they used to be, and I've never been one for politics. However, the following title sequence blew all of my concerns out of the water as Cassius's rocking "Toop Toop" backed a montage of assassinations accompanied by mobile three-dimensional captions telling you the identity of the deceased. Not a native Italian, I did not recognize any of the names (which included Aldo Moro, Roberto Calvi, and Giovanni Falcone), but that didn't detract from the film's entertainment value. It was made instantly clear by the script's clever humor and the wildly mobile camera that "Il Divo" was going to be a fun ride. 

The fast editing style of "Il Divo" is expertly tempered by Sorrentino's handling of his main character. When we first meet Andreotti, he has his head down on his desk while his voice-over explains that he has trouble sleeping and suffers from terrible migraines. Many doctors have told him that he will not live long, but they are dead now. He raises his head, revealing a face full of acupuncture needles. The blank stare on his face will remain there throughout the film, and he maintains the same vocal cadence as he rattles of his list of accusations to journalists, tells his wife of his implications, and finally confesses his sins to the audience. 

With relatively limited dialogue, Servillo's performance is closer to that of a contemporary Buster Keaton. In one scene, he is walking with his hands clasped in front of him and his usual determination through his house. He suddenly stops; a fluffy white cat is in his path. The two have a stare-down worthy of an old Western. Andreotti claps his hands forcefully a few times, and the cat finally backs down. Andreotti charges ahead, continuing on his former path. The real Andreotti is less than pleased with Sorrentino's film; he has made his opinions clear for the public, claiming "Il Divo" highlights a lot of his personal flaws and gives him flaws he doesn't have, but the more likely explanation for his concern is that Sorrentino lays all of Andreotti's sins at his feet.

There is no doubt in my mind that "Il Divo" is intensely political, but its weight is lost on non-Italian audiences. The other members of my group who saw the film at the Festival all confessed to giving up on trying to keep track of who was who early on in the film and decided instead to just enjoy the style and the dryly funny character of Andreotti. The dozens of Italian names are meaningless, but audiences will still understand the assassinations, wave of suicides, and illegal acts linked to Andreotti's name, making the final shot, a title card explaining that Andreotti has been acquitted of all 26 charges, set to Trio's 1982 "Da Da Da" all the more memorable and somehow, perfect.