The main plot of the second episode of the fourth season of My Brilliant Friend revolves around Lenu's break with the Alotta family and Franco's death. After a long struggle, Lenu finally decides to take her two children, Dede and Elsa, into her own care. With nowhere else to go, Lenu takes the children to Milan and lives with Maria Rosa. Here, Franco provides her with a lot of help. But she also witnesses Franco's death firsthand.
The highlight of the episode is undoubtedly Franco's death. Who is Franco? He was a star student at the University of Pisa and a leader of the liberal movement. He was briefly involved with Lenu during their university days and offered her much help, supporting her through the difficult early days at the University of Pisa. Later, Franco dropped out of school, moved to Milan, and continued the exciting revolution with Maria Rosa. However, a fascist attack destroyed him—he lost a leg and an eye, along with all his passion and spirit for everything. This despair eventually consumed him, leading to his suicide.
Franco was more than just an important friend to Lenu; he was a mentor of ideas (for the relationship between Lenu and Franco, click here to review). In a way, he shaped the early Lenu, helping her evolve from a small-town girl into someone full of curiosity and thirst for knowledge, and enlightening her with his ideas about sexual liberation. Throughout his life, Franco never asked Lenu for anything, yet he gave her so much—things she couldn't get from anyone else. Even in his suicide, he was careful not to cause too much trouble for others, especially not to leave a shadow on the two children.
But the entire episode is really a bit flat, with the original highlights completely overshadowed. There were supposed to be two standout moments: first, Lenu's argument with Adele; second, Franco's confrontations with Lenu's ex-husband and her "white moonlight" (a person she admires deeply). But both were ruined by the director.
First, Lenu's quarrel with Adele. In the original novel, Adele tries to protect the two children during Lenu and Pietro's divorce battle, preventing them from being hurt by their parents' daily fights. Lenu is also grateful to Adele for her dedication to the children and for helping her solve a big problem. After bitterly and cruelly mocking Adele, Lenu knows she went too far. The novel uses psychological descriptions to portray Lenu's complex feelings toward Adele. In the film version, Lenu is like a troublemaker, only showing her sharpness. Nino, who hasn't even divorced, gets all her love and tenderness, while Adele, who helps take care of the children, receives ruthless sarcasm. Without the context from the original novel (where Adele actually bears part of Lenu's anger toward Nino), this portrayal only makes Lenu seem rude!
The director clearly knows what the audience cares about, so he picks the key points to show. Without any buildup, Guido is made to show his most disgusting side, specifically in the conversation about the right to name the children. They certainly have unpleasant sides, but flattening the characters like a domestic drama is unreasonable. The result is that the characters are very one-dimensional, completely one-sided.
In the original novel, Adele and Guido each have their strengths and weaknesses. They respect Lenu's relationship with her two daughters, and when they notice their granddaughters trying to use their grandparents' authority to confront their mother, they step back to avoid conflict. This is fair, and the characters are three-dimensional. I can understand that Adele is kind to her daughter-in-law Lenu from a mother's perspective, because there is no unprovoked kindness or help. But her most wrong or presumptuous point is that she thinks all of Lenu's achievements come from the Alotta family—that they helped Lenu become a famous writer, rather than Lenu's own abilities enabling her success!
From this perspective, the director is clever. Even if the plot and editing are messy, those godlike lines from the original novel will reach the audience and have a direct impact no matter how they are presented. But there is clearly a context behind these lines, and reciting them verbatim is obviously inappropriate.
But that's not all. The handling of Franco vs. Pietro and Franco vs. Nino is really disappointing. Originally, Franco showed his eloquence and wisdom when dealing with Lenu and Pietro's dispute over the children's custody. It was he who persuaded Pietro, making him feel that with the children living beside a wise person, everything could be expected. Moreover, when Franco dealt with Lenu's relationship with Nino, he seemed to return to his role as a guide in college. A sudden light, like the one he had when he was a student leader, shone from him, and the pessimistic and gloomy Franco seemed to disappear. It is this contrast that makes Franco's death feel so sudden and unacceptable.
Death is certainly distressing and shocking, no matter who it is or how it happens—let alone someone as wonderful, selfless, and noble as Franco. But the Franco who appears in the fourth season has lost his original brilliance, and the possible highlight moments don't remind people of his past glory. The sense of tragedy is completely lost. The so-called tragedy is to destroy something beautiful for people to see, but if it's not beautiful enough, does the tragic effect 大打折扣 (greatly diminish)?
Even Franco's suicide is puzzling. But after reading the original novel, it's relatively easy to understand: in his conversation with Lenu, Franco increasingly realized that he either had to change everything quickly or accept it calmly. A small marriage (Lenu and Pietro's marriage, click here to review) is already so complicated, let alone the turbulent situation. He couldn't change everything, nor could he accept it calmly. Death was just a pre-written ending.
The most unacceptable scene is Lenu's fantasy funeral. After seeing Franco's death, Lenu has a brief illusion, dreaming that everyone attends Franco's funeral. This includes Franco's parents, their mutual friends, and even Mirko. Most annoyingly, Nino appears in her fantasy, lying in the coffin that should have held Franco. This scene is incomprehensible. It's a desecration of Franco and an insult to the audience.
Overall, after watching the second episode, I feel very uncomfortable. The director only grasped the surface of the original novel, not its essence. For example, Nino's casting resembles his father Donato, especially the side profile at the beginning of the second episode, which immediately reminded me of Donato. Another example: Franco's artificial eye reminds people of his past experiences and the disillusionment of his ideals. Or the conversation about naming rights immediately makes people think about feminism. These are the advantages of the film adaptation. But beyond that, the characters' personalities and the logic of the story are questionable. It seems that the once 9.5 rating will be hard to maintain!