Someone, somewhere, enjoys and appreciate this movie, and understands nuances about it that I've failed to pick up on. I'm glad for them. I, however, am at a loss. There are strong storytelling possibilities in the concept of someone suddenly losing their memory in a big city. It could be turned into a film of any genre, but in keeping with the tone here, as a straight drama that concept could be explored as the sad, active experience of such loss, and trying to survive and find oneself, or as a grand esoteric examination of self-discovery and reinvention. To some small extent Adam Leon touches upon these ideas in his movie. To a much larger extent, it doesn't actually feel like 'Italian studies' has any plot or meaningful writing at all.

Whatever narrative the film would seem to carry in regards to protagonist Alina's memory loss is... well, lost, and upended, by frequent interspersed conversations with the teens she meets. There is a suggested story thread here, too - Alina is using the idea of writing about teens as an excuse to hang out with them, and cover for the fact that she doesn't know anything about herself or her surroundings. The problem is that it doesn't feel like a real story, only an interruption from what the narrative for this feature could have been. The conversations bear no weight, and no real apparent meaning. Compounding this aggravation is the fact that the teens aren't exactly likeable: Whatever characterizations Leon gave them in his screenplay, and whatever personality or quirks the young performers infused into their roles, the effect is a group of young people who present like self-indulgent exhibitions of every worst impulse, hammed up to impress they person they're talking to.

Dialogue mostly seems fake and contrived, characters are hollow and empty, plot is all but absent, and scene writing feels blase. I suppose the acting is fine, such as it is, but what is it that the players are supposed to be portraying? 'Italian studies' is well made from a technical standpoint, but what does this matter in a picture that's so directionless, and aimless? I'm honestly unsure. There are concrete ideas herein, and one of them - mentioned in passing within the last lackadaisical stretch of the movie - is the notion of acknowledging something good that happened, but not hyperfocusing on it, and just remembering it and moving on. None of these ideas are treated with any care or respect, however, and so the picture ends as bland and indifferent as it began, with these qualities only amplified between the bookends. What was Leon trying to communicate with 'Italian studies?' What was he trying to do? I think I might understand the intent, but in my opinion, it simply didn't work. Another viewer may learn these hidden truths as a revelation, and I congratulate them. Me? I could do with a bit of memory loss right now.

There's drivel and there's drivel.

There is a few films that make less sense and are less entraining than this. If you can paint your walls white and watch them dry it would be more entertaining.

The idea that an author spontaneously falls into a fugue state and rediscovers who she is by reading her own book is pretty cool. However, the story is very laden with scenes of teenage angst in the form of interviews and social interactions. Once I had an idea where the story was going I skipped a good 20 minutes of that stuff. The whole film feels more like a student film with an A-lister playing the lead role, sorry to say.