A scene from Vermiglio (TIFF)

An old tagline goes, “If you want to capture someone’s attention, whisper.” Director Maura Delpero’s World War II–era drama Vermiglio holds attention rapt with its silences. Grand themes of birth, death, destiny, and scandal play out against a hushed rural milieu of family, religion, and detailed domestic life. Outside, massive mountain ranges loom, hinting at a wider world and multitudes within. Delpero’s vision is intimate yet sweeping—the film is Italy’s deserving contender for the Best International Feature Film Academy Award.

A simple, beautifully framed shot of warm milk being poured into cups tells us we are entering the bosom of a large family. Ten children share bedrooms and chores, with the older ones minding the younger. The family’s destinies are governed by Cesare (Tomasso Ragno), a stern patriarch respected as the village teacher and feared in the schoolroom. Papà keeps his wife perpetually pregnant, suggesting a demanding appetite behind the upright façade. Teenager Dino, the eldest boy, has been cast by the father as the family’s ne’er-do-well. While Cesare dotes on his studious daughter Flavia, he condescends to Ada, who is equally bright and ostensibly the most dutiful of the children. The eldest daughter, Lucia (Martina Scrinzi), is the first to venture beyond the family, entering a budding courtship with a war deserter hiding in the barn. He seems drawn to her yet oddly diffident. Their sexual relationship, at first furtive and then acknowledged, alters the family dynamic as well.

Against the backdrop of a distant war, Northern Italian village life unfolds with graceful simplicity, depicted in a natural palette of lush greens and wintry grays. Delpero allows us to glimpse secrets among family members and observe their shifting relationships—with one another and with the townspeople they meet at school, rustic celebrations, religious services, and in charged private moments. In other films, secrets feel peeled away; here, they accumulate, like ice forming around a frozen pipe. One shocking revelation brings disgrace to the revered family, but it is only one of many overlapping concealments, each offering insights into the characters and their hidden lives.

This outwardly quiet movie is deceptively eventful, and the storylines accelerate—perhaps a little too rapidly—to bring events and fates to a head. Yet the film balances a sense of destiny fulfilled with austere tragedy. It is personal and formidable, soft-spoken yet filled with strong emotions. Loyal to its characters, Vermiglio whispers its truths and leaves an indelible impression.