Stream It Or Skip It: ‘The Man Without Gravity’ on Netflix, a Whimsical Fable About a Man Who Can Fly, Sort Of

Netflix further expands its international film offerings with The Man Without Gravity, from Italian writer/director Marco Bonfanti. The Truth in Advertising Dept. will keep its lawyers leashed for this neo-fable, which lives up precisely to its title, being about a man who came out of the womb and floated right up to the ceiling. Is it original and clever, or an avalanche of whimsy?

THE MAN WITHOUT GRAVITY: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: I wasn’t exaggerating — in the movie’s opening sequence, as a thunderstorm rages outside, Natalia (Michela Cescon) and her mother Alina (Elena Cotta) rush into the emergency room. A push or three later, the title character emerges from his mother and immediately ascends, tethered by the umbilical cord. Natalia names him Oscar. They quickly leave the hospital, foregoing any kind of documentation. Then they staple some quilts to their apartment ceiling and sequester the floating boy inside for several years.

In lieu of school, the deeply religious Alina conducts bible study with young Oscar (Pietro Pescara). But he looks out the window restlessly; when he dares open one, Alina nails all the windows shut. It’s a cruel world out there — but it’s the world. It can’t be kept at bay. Natalia sews him a vest with large pockets to hold weights so he stays earthbound, and teaches him to keep his gift a secret, just like his favorite TV character, Batman. Oscar gets accustomed to going outside with his mother; one day outside a store, he meets Agata (Jennifer Brokshi), who coerces him to wander off. At last, a peer, a friend, a human who isn’t his terrified and conservative grandmother or his comparatively less scared, but still very cautious mother. A friend who soon learns that he can “fly,” and gives him her pink backpack to weigh him down. But when Natalia learns the secret’s out, she makes sure he never sees Agata again — until the plot inevitably demands it, of course.

Years go by. Oscar is now an adult (Elio Germano), and he and his mother live on a remote mountainside. He still has the pink backpack. He reads voraciously. He has a friend at the local motel-lodge bar who playfully teases him, calling him “Backpack.” But his world is still so small. After watching a Eurovision talent competition on TV, he believes it’s the best venue to share his gift with everyone. He leaves in the middle of the night; he makes a splash, as expected; an agent (Vincent Scarito) gives him a contract; he becomes rich and famous and surrounded by admirers, but feels more isolated than ever.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Here’s the alternate-universe magical-realist Peter Pan movie you never knew you wanted! With a few fanciful Walter Mitty/Pleasantville/Benjamin Button vibes thrown in.

Memorable Dialogue: Natalia’s reaction right after Oscar is born: “Mom, I made an angel!”

Sex and Skin: Just some PG-13 horizontal smooching.

Our Take: The Man Without Gravity is a modern-era parable laced with symbolism, allegory, metaphor and other miscellaneous literary whatnot that might lend itself to pretension in the wrong hands. It skews a little closer to featherweight sentimentalism, but avoids the type of overt audience manipulation that feels like too many spoonfuls of sugar making the medicine come back up.

Yet I’m not sure there’s much substantive material here. Bonfanti maintains a nice, even tone, and clearly employs understatement to keep the bathos at bay. The primary mood is melancholy, because the protagonist spends so much of his life trying to find meaningful human connection. But it doesn’t inspire much beyond mild interest. There are no big laughs or moments of significant dramatic consequence. The screenplay is clearly divided into three acts, and the third is the weakest, an exercise in cliche fulfillment that I’d label as cornball if Bonfanti didn’t squash the story’s emotion into a bland mush.

Our Call: SKIP IT. The Man Without Gravity is a nice movie, a not-bad movie, a watchable movie. Please note the faint praise. It’s blandly diverting. Watch it, and the memory of it will just float away.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba.

Stream The Man Without Gravity on Netflix