Joie De Vivre – first-look review | Little White Lies

Venice Film Festival

Joie De Vivre – first-look review

Published 09 Sept 2026

Words by Hannah Strong

Directed by Luca Guadagnino

Luca Guadagnino’s mammoth reflection on the life and legacy of Bernardo Bertolucci is a sprawling acquired taste, but has much to say about the shape of cinema.

Luca Guadagnino’s fascination with his countryman filmmaker Bernardo Bertolucci is well established; he frequently cites him as an influence, and in 2013 he co-directed Bertolucci on Bertolucci, arranging years of interview footage with the Italian raconteur into a feature-length project. In the intervening years Guadagnino has been working on an ambitious follow-up, which clocks in a mammoth seven hours and boasts the gracious title Joie De Vivre: Notes, Thoughts, Words, Reflections, Faces, Visions, Around Bernardo Bertolucci And The Cinephilia Of The 20th Century That Is No More. Those two facts alone will do little to alter the minds of Guadagnino detractors; they will see it as a threat rather than a promise. Yet this freewheeling documentary serves as an enjoyable, if meandering, examination of contemporary cinema culture through the lens of Bertolucci, to the extent that you enjoy spending time with Guadagnino and his eclectic band of contributors.

These range from his filmmaking colleagues Martin Scorsese, Alfonso Cuaron, David Cronenberg and James Gray to Bertolucci collaborators Jeremy Thomas and Debra Winger, plus a handful of critics, historians and other admirers. The interviews are a mixed bag; Margot Robbie is enthusiastic though not particularly insightful, while French provocateur Catherine Breillet (who had a minor part in Last Tango in Paris) spends the majority of her screentime refuting the claims that Maria Schneider was treated poorly on set or harboured any ill will to Bertolucci following the film’s release. More illuminating is Mark Cousins, who features prominently and takes a firmer stance against Bertolucci’s treatment of Schneider, and French critic Murielle Joudet who speaks to Bertolucci’s complex presentations of women. 

One might expect a seven-hour documentary about Bertolucci to provide a comprehensive assessment of his career and impact, yet Guadagnino opts to omit several of his projects, affording only passing references to The Dreamers, Stealing Beauty, Partner, Besieged and Little Buddha (a film Guadagnino confesses to disliking but being fascinated by). It’s a curious decision that gives one a sense of an incomplete portrait; while Guadagnino and his contributors are fitfully critical, there’s a tendency to shy away from Bertolucci’s less successful works and emphasise positives, or at the very least personal highlights. 

While the very title of the film implies that the director always intended for the project to use Bertolucci as a rubric to explore film more widely rather than the exclusive subject, if this is the case, there is a missed opportunity to speak to younger filmmakers about how Bertolucci has (or hasn’t) influenced their work. This is hinted at in the sheer volume of clips from the history of cinema that Guadagnino includes, but the filmmaking voices in the film, while legendary, don’t provide a sense of how Bertolucci is perceived by those born after his glory days. Guadagnino suggests this is because he’s fallen out of critical favour (in part due to the revelations about Schneider’s experience on Last Tango) yet anyone who spent time online in the new millenium will attest to the impact The Dreamers had on a certain subset of young cinephiles. 

It’s evident that this film was a passion project for Guadagnino, who serves as an enthusiastic and determined shepherd of Bertolucci’s legacy. Within the film he states that his intention is to introduce Bertolucci to younger audiences in hopes his legacy will be secured; given Guadagnino’s cache with millennial and Gen Z audiences this is a smart move, and the filmmaker (along with James Gray) openly praises the very film critics who are often unkind to him, valuing earnest, serious analysis of art in a time when films are reduced to star ratings and namechecks in short-form video content. Joie De Vivre also does an excellent job at introducing the likes of 1900, La Luna and The Last Emperor to newcomers; there’s an infectious sense of enthusiasm when discussing these films in particular, and producer Jeremy Thomas’ stories from the ambitious realisation of The Last Emperor are a highlight of the film’s second chapter. 

Like Bertolucci’s career, then, Joie De Vivre is something of a mixed bag. While frequently entertaining and interesting for those who are happy to spend such an extended runtime in the company of Guadagnino and friends, its meandering structure is a challenge that will likely prove a barrier to access. Yet Guadagnino’s enthusiasm and passion for the subject matter is never in doubt, and it’s heartening to see a filmmaker (and indeed group of film professionals) so engaged with the relationship between the past, present and future of cinema. Let’s just hope some of that enthusiasm is contagious if we’re to weather the storm presented by continuing challenges to the very concept of making and loving movies. 

You might like

Subscribe to LWLies Weekly

Want to keep up with all things film? Our free weekly newsletter drops every Friday, bringing you the latest film news, reviews and features, plus discounts and extras from Team LWLies.