Ah yes, L’arcano incantatore (The Arcane Sorcerer, or as I like to call it: Two Hours of Candlelight and Men Mumbling in Latin). This is one of those films critics describe as “atmospheric” when they really mean “so slow you’ll be begging for a demon to rip your face off just to feel something.” Pupi Avati tried to make a moody 18th-century horror piece. What he delivered instead was an 18th-century NyQuil substitute with bonus wigs.
The Plot: “Seminarians Behaving Badly”
We open in 1750 Bologna, where our hero Giacomo (Stefano Dionisi) is kicked out of seminary school for doing the most un-priestly thing possible: knocking up a girl and then convincing her to abort the baby. Classy. Fleeing from scandal, he stumbles into a mysterious pact with an old lady hidden behind a fresco, because apparently, everyone in this film has to be contractually obligated to act like they’re in a Dan Brown fever dream.
She sends him to Medelana, a creepy villa in the Apennines, to be secretary for a disgraced monsignor dabbling in the occult. This guy, Nerio (Carlo Cecchi), lives in a drafty old house stacked with enough dusty books to make a librarian weep, and probably hasn’t seen sunlight since the last papal conclave. Giacomo’s job? Transcribe Nerio’s spooky notes in cipher and pretend that hours of watching a guy read grimoires by candlelight isn’t a fate worse than death.
But then the locals start whispering: Nerio’s previous assistant, conveniently dead, is coming back. Giacomo digs up the corpse, only to discover—plot twist!—that the dead assistant is Nerio. Cue thunderclap. Cue faint groan from the audience. Cue someone in the back of the theater muttering, “Wait, so what the hell have we been watching for the last 90 minutes?”
The Atmosphere: “Candlelight, Wigs, and More Candlelight”
You know that one friend who insists you watch their homemade student film? That’s L’arcano incantatore—except instead of bad synth music, it’s Gregorian chanting, and instead of awkward college kids, it’s Italian character actors smothered in powdered wigs and candlewax.
Everything takes place in dim rooms where people whisper ominously. Every shot lingers three minutes too long, as if the cinematographer was paid by the candle flicker. The scariest thing in this movie isn’t black magic—it’s the creeping realization that your butt’s going numb from the runtime.
Giacomo: Patron Saint of Dumb Decisions
Our protagonist, Giacomo, is a masterclass in horror-movie idiocy. Faced with creepy rumors, mysterious codes, and his boss conducting midnight séances, he thinks: “Seems legit.” The guy literally exhumes a corpse, sees it’s his employer, and still somehow manages to get outsmarted by a geriatric necromancer who lives in his basement library.
Watching Giacomo “investigate” is like watching someone try to solve a Sudoku puzzle by eating the newspaper.
Nerio: When Your Villain is a Dusty Librarian
Let’s talk about our villain, Nerio. Instead of a cackling sorcerer throwing fireballs, we get a frail old man with the charisma of an expired communion wafer. He spends most of his screen time dictating encrypted mumbo-jumbo while glaring at candles. Supposedly, he’s this terrifying occult mastermind. In practice, he looks like your uncle trying to figure out his Netflix password.
When the big reveal finally comes—Nerio is actually his own dead assistant—it lands with the impact of a wet lasagna noodle. At that point, you’re less terrified and more irritated that you sat through endless candlelit dictations for this.
Horror? Or Just Homework?
This film is billed as horror, but the only horrific thing here is the pacing. Ghosts? Barely. Gore? Forget it. Scares? Unless you’re terrified of parchment, not really. What you get instead is a crash course in 18th-century clerical corruption, the Catholic Church’s disapproval of fun, and how to properly waste a perfectly good fog machine.
If you’re looking for blood, monsters, or even a jump scare, you’ll get none of that. What you will get is two grown men in wigs arguing about Latin phrases while the soundtrack goes “Oooooooh” in the background like a monk stubbed his toe.
Production Value: Historical LARPing on a Budget
Shot in old villas and gloomy Italian hills, the film looks expensive until you realize the entire budget probably went to candles and powdered wigs. Sets are bare. Costumes are decent but feel like they were borrowed from a Renaissance fair. And the “special effects”? Let’s just say the scariest visual is still the candlelight threatening to set someone’s wig on fire.
Recognition: Because Someone Always Falls For It
Somehow, this snoozefest won a Silver Crow at the Brussels International Fantastic Film Festival. That’s right, a film where the climax is “surprise, the old man is dead but also alive” got an award. Proof that even festival juries can be conned by Latin chanting and a fog machine.
The Big Themes (Because Pretension Must Be Served)
Pupi Avati clearly thought he was crafting a masterpiece of metaphysical horror. Instead, he gave us a morality tale that boils down to: Don’t knock up girls in Bologna or you’ll end up proofreading a necromancer’s diary. There are vague gestures toward guilt, sin, and the corrupting nature of forbidden knowledge—but it’s buried under so much melodramatic whispering that you forget what anyone’s supposed to feel guilty about.
Final Verdict: A Hex on Your Time
L’arcano incantatore is less a horror film and more a test of endurance. It’s the cinematic equivalent of being trapped in a damp monastery while two monks argue over whether demons prefer parchment or vellum. Yes, the actresses are pretty, yes, the costumes are fine, but hot extras and powdered wigs can’t save you when the story moves slower than holy water evaporating.
By the time the credits roll, you won’t be scared. You’ll just be furious that you didn’t use those two hours to do literally anything else—like cleaning the grout in your bathroom, which would’ve been scarier and more entertaining.
