Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Rose Island’ on Netflix, a Fantastic True Story Turned Into a Bland Dramedy

Netflix original movie Rose Island is based on a true story about a weirdo who once built his own island in international waters just off the coast of Italy and declared sovereignty, which chafed the buttocks of many government bureaucrats. It’s kind of an asterisk of a footnote in European history, and theoretically would make for a compelling piece of comic drama — now let’s see if filmmaker Sydney Sibiliia succeeded in executing it.

ROSE ISLAND: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: Giorgio Rosa (Elio Germano) is a whip-smart engineer and a loosey-goosey lefty-type who built his own weird little car — shaped like a door wedge and with his late grandmother’s loveseat as a bench — and didn’t bother to register it, or get a license plate, or even get a driver’s license. He has a One That Got Away, Gabriella (Matilda De Angelis), and some middle-class, conservative parents, and a crummy job on the crew of a motorcycle racing team. It’s 1968.

One day, he has an idea, and maybe he has a light bulb of inspiration over his head, or maybe he just stepped in cow flop: he’ll build his own island outside international borders and enjoy the freedom of not needing a driver’s license to drive a car and all that oppressive governmental stuff. He hits up his pal Maurizio (Leonardo Lidi), who works at his father’s shipyard, and is quietly embezzling money from his father’s shipyard, which is convenient, because this project requires a ship and some money. They design and build some telescoping legs, float them out to sea, drop them to the bottom of the ocean, build a 400 square-meter platform, drill for fresh water, construct a bar, find a few fellow goofball allies including a bartender and a promoter, and turn it into a tax-free party spot. They call it Rose Island, named after their “president.”

As the place turns into an international headline-grabbing media curiosity and earns the admiration of whoa-dude hippies and the like, The Man gets his panties all in a bunch. They get even bunchier when Giorgio contacts the United Nations about becoming a sovereign nation. The Italian government determines that This Shall Not Stand, because taxes must be paid and what if the place is a shelter for — shudder — FILTHY COMMIES? Nor can the Vatican abide, because a photo of the place featured a naked butt in it. The pressure gets intense, and Giorgio and Maurizio must decide if all this freedom is worth the hassle.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Pirate Radio — a.k.a. The Boat That Rocked — was a Philip Seymour Hoffman movie that time forgot, set in the mid-’60s, about U.K. bureaucrats who get their tits in a tizzy when pirate-radio DJs broadcast from boats in international waters.

Performance Worth Watching: Tom Wlaschiha plays the German promoter who joins the island crew, and one gets the sense that he’d be more colorful and entertaining with a better script.

Memorable Dialogue: “Giovanni, this is a bare ass. Do you get it, Giovanni, an ass in the newspaper. You tell me if you think this is okay… It’s not about the ass itself, which I think is well-proportioned, nice, but what the ass represents.” — the Vatican representative asserts that asses will NOT be tolerated in Italy

Sex and Skin: We don’t even get to see the bare ass.

Our Take: So is Giorgio a shyster or a naive idealist? Yes. Both. But also somehow less than that, because the character as written and performed is slight, bland and noncommittal, and never really engages us emotionally. Sure, Rose Island subplots haphazardly into his hope to rekindle romance with Gabriella, but that’s as underdeveloped as everything else in the film. What’s his passion? Rebellion? Making his own way? Who knows. The activity on the island is tame enough that we struggle to determine exactly why anyone — government officials, media, free spirits — gives half a shit about the place.

So we Google the real Rose Island and learn that the story is far more fascinating than the watery pap this film gives us — in spite of the opportunity to historically-fictionalize it for our entertainment. Sibilia sometimes frames the narrative as a spoof of heist films or globe-hopping international thrillers, but fails to wring any laughs out of it. After too much time dithering about in the shallowest of waters, the plot builds to a big climactic threat from the Italian military set to Barry McGuire’s Eve of Destruction, and suddenly, finally, it shows a sense of purpose. But for a story set in the politically turbulent ’60s about freethinkers flipping the bird at authority, the film spends nearly two hours accomplishing very little and never finding anything substantial to say, even though the substance is right there for the taking. It’s ultimately nothing more than a lark.

Our Call: SKIP IT. Considering this true story’s potential Rose Island is a dud as a drama and a dud as a comedy — and a granddaddy of a wasted opportunity.

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 Rose Island on Netflix