Finding the ‘Crack of Humanity’ in My Brilliant Friend

As an actress deeply immersed in the intricate world of Lila, I can confidently say that she is not just a character, but a complex enigma that defies simple categorization. Over the years, I’ve found myself on a spiritual journey to unravel the mysteries of this elusive woman, and each new discovery has been as captivating as the last.


The penultimate episode of My Brilliant Friend brings with it the most shocking event in Elena Ferrante’s tetralogy. Lila, the eponymous friend to narrator Elena “Lenù” Greco, had always maintained a notorious, hard-scrabbling implacability alternately admired and despised by her more accomplished friend. But on an ordinary Sunday, as families loiter on a busy street, Lila’s cherished daughter Tina disappears as if she evaporated into thin air. It’s the moment that gives the final book the ominous title The Story of the Lost Child and leaves Lenù (played in the fourth season by Alba Rohrwacher) to reckon with Lila’s (Irene Maiorino) near-mythical breakdown.

From an early age, Lila was endowed with an unusual, borderline supernatural strength that surfaced during times of reproof or terror. In the wake of adversity, the fortress shielding her delicate interior vulnerability shatters, and the same potent willpower (which may have potentially shattered a copper pot or sparked a fire on a poster) turns inward. As she spirals, Lila grows more enigmatic, resembling a witch-like figure who casts a gloomy presence over the neighborhood with her sorrow of loss. Maiorino refers to this character’s ultimate metamorphosis as “the crack.” “I felt it was my duty to allow the audience to identify with this colossal character,” she explains. “The crack you witness in the wall is a reflection of humanity’s frailty.

In taking over the role of Lila for the fourth and final season, did the transformation of her character from Gaia Girace’s portrayal – now as a mother, businesswoman, and fully grown adult – feel exciting and innovative to you?

It’s true that people often compare my appearance to Gaia. The casting process spanned approximately two to three years, even including the COVID period. I first tried out at the end of season two when they began searching for an actress. Throughout those two to three years, Lila never left me; she was always by my side. She accompanied me on my vacations. Playing her in the fourth season was a bit intimidating as it was the most challenging time for Lila. To tackle this, I delved further and deeper into the hidden crack she conceals from everyone, except for Elena of course. I spent a great deal of effort on that crack, which ultimately erupted quite forcefully in the final scenes.

In the novels, Ferrante describes how Lila’s intense focus is conveyed through narrowing her eyes. This same characteristic is evident in Gaia’s performance, which mirrors yours. When I first watched the fourth season, I was struck by how strikingly similar these two characters looked, not just physically but also in their emotional intensity and inner depth. The resemblance wasn’t just skin deep; they were looking for someone who could embody Lila’s strength, fearlessness, and the way she expresses her emotions through her eyes, movements, and demeanor.

Lila grapples with a challenging dynamic in her role as a mother. Her pregnancies are burdensome and distressing, contrasting significantly with Lenù’s experiences. Furthermore, her bond with her son Gennaro weakens as he descends further into drug addiction. Then comes Tina, who offers Lila an opportunity for redemption or a fresh start. The differences between her relationships with her two children can be seen as a reflection of her struggle against societal expectations and patriarchal norms that are central themes in Elena Ferrante’s novels. Lila is a feminist who fights for emancipation through action rather than words, and Gennaro embodies the world she aims to leave behind. Tina represents new possibilities and Lila’s future. I explored the question of how one can live and resist their predetermined fate when it is tied to their very existence by considering the reborn Lila as a symbol of her destiny, even though she is still a child.

I find it truly heartwarming to note that Tina embodies a spirit nurtured by affection – a daughter born out of love. Lila, on the other hand, exudes empowerment and strength, finding herself captivated by this fresh dynamic. For the first time, she’s fully immersed in this relationship, making each step feel as if she’s ascending to the peak of a hill. However, the descent that follows is all the more profound.

Finding the ‘Crack of Humanity’ in My Brilliant Friend

In this situation, you don’t always foresee how events will unfold; instead, you let your emotions guide you in real-time. This type of scene is a result of both extensive preparation and trusting the natural progression of things. You must rely on the process because it’s crucial that something significant transpires. The question of how I arrived at this reaction or interpretation isn’t premeditated; rather, it emerges from immersing myself in the emotional state as events unfold.

There are some characters like Lila that are archetypes — they are big. I felt a responsibility to give the audience permission to recognize themselves in this huge character and in her cracks. In this scene, you have to see immediately that something changes in one second. There’s no time to understand better. Lenù says, “Where’s Tina?” In the time it takes to end the conversation, there’s something that pulls me by my hair and puts me in my nightmare. I worked with opposites. Lila’s very tough, but she’s fragile. She’s a very good-looking woman, but in another way, she’s like a witch, especially at the end. There is Lila’s inner behavior, and there is the public persona. I worked on duality in this scene in a very strong way.

There’s an earlier scene from a few episodes back that I’d like to discuss – it was during Marcello and Elisa’s wedding. During this event, Alfonso gets kicked out, and in this moment, Lila stands silently, visibly upset. Although she doesn’t speak, her facial expressions reveal anger, sadness, and possibly a sense of guilt due to her role in encouraging the violent relationship between Alfonso and Michele Solara. Can you elaborate on this significant moment?

Apart from Tina’s disappearance, there is another instance where I believe Lila is completely devoid of anything but fear and emotion. This occurs shortly after the earthquake, when she expresses her dread over the concept of dissolving boundaries. It seems to me that this fear was constantly on Lila’s mind, yet we as viewers, along with Lenù, only become aware of it in this specific moment. We are only privy to what Lila chooses to reveal. How much did the idea of dissolving boundaries impact your thoughts about how Lila would respond to various situations throughout the season? Did it influence your portrayal of her in any way?

Oh, that’s intriguing! I actually meant referring to Lila, but it seems both could apply. We have some shared traits, if you will. In Italian, we call this “smarginatura.” Elena Ferrante wrote about this concept, and just as Lila expressed during her monologue, that was perhaps the most powerful portrayal of it.

These are vast, expansive vistas. Elena Ferrante notes that the earthquake was an external event. It affected everyone, yet what terrified everyone was what lay beyond themselves. Lila often squints her eyes, not to see more, but because she’s wary of seeing too much. In Italian, we call such individuals vedente, meaning someone who is blind yet perceptive about the world. Lila possesses an extraordinary ability to see more and see it with greater clarity than others. At a certain point, she remarks, “Oh Lenù, people talk about their lives as they wish to speak about them; not for what they truly are, but for what they want them to be.” Their narrative, in essence, is their perspective on life. However, Lila counters, “No, this is reality, Lenù. The fracture you see in the wall is a fissure of humanity.

In this episode, we witness a deeper embodiment of the enigmatic character, Lila. She transcends her polished exterior to embrace a more pronounced witch-like persona, as signified by her unkempt hair, smeared makeup, and an overall air of mystery. This transformation echoes Ferrante’s sentiments about Lila: “If I could grasp the power and the enigma of Lila, I wouldn’t write ‘My Brilliant Friend.’ I write because I yearn to understand who she is and what she represents, yet despite spending my entire life with her, I cannot confine her to a simple definition such as, ‘This is Lila.’

It’s impossible to say what Lila is, so that’s why I speak about archetypes, because it’s not just a character. Yes, she’s tough. She’s fearless, of course, in a superficial way. But at the end, you can see the bottom, the inner work, the nature of Lila. Now she doesn’t give a shit about anything. Because she lost hope. She lost her life. So she becomes the poor child again. She’s once again angry with Elena. In this season, we see love between the two girls, yet she becomes angry, she returns to her nature. To me, she’s the queen of the shadows.

She is so elusive. Was it challenging for you, as an actor, to play a character who is always interpreted through someone else? We, the viewers and the readers, know everything Lenù is thinking — we’re inside her perspective and her head, and so Lila is also filtered through Lenù’s perspective. Does the fact that Lenù tells the story of Lila change how you interpret her? 
This is a point between the character and the actress, too. This is the first force to work on: Elena really tries to understand the mystery because she feels jealous of Lila’s way of being. And that’s why, for me, it’s very difficult to explain and speak about Lila in interviews, because I don’t want to say much. She needs to be mysterious.

My casting process was a hidden process. I worked on it for two years in my room with candles and music. Yes, I work as an actress, but at the same time, I work in a very spiritual way, because it’s very necessary to believe in something special. And if the actor or actress doesn’t believe, the audience won’t believe, right? The child actors are taught that when they play, it’s a very serious game.

Instead of asking if she seemed mysterious to you, perhaps you understand her in ways that we don’t. During the two years you spent preparing for your role as Lila, did any new aspects about her character emerge that hadn’t crossed your mind before? In this season, Lila appears more empowered than ever, being more in tune with her body and power. She doesn’t seem to care about validation or recognition, especially from Lenù. In the initial scenes of the season, when she tells Lenù, “I have something difficult to tell you about Nino,” this could be the first time she speaks sincerely, which was a bit surprising. This openness may simply come with Lila growing up and becoming more vulnerable with Lenù and her mother. In the scenes where both Lenù and Lila discover they’re pregnant, when Lila says, “I have something important to share with you: I’m also pregnant,” it brought back memories of the two playing with dolls as children. The unborn babies can be seen as their new dolls in a way, symbolizing a kinder and less guarded version of Lila that we haven’t witnessed before.

In episode six of season one, “The Island,” a rage-filled Lila fumes about the pressure put on her to marry Marcello Solara. As she does the dishes, a copper pot above her head explodes. Lenù speculates the force of her anger might have channeled into blast.
In episode three of season two, “Erasure,” a poster collage Lila made for the Solara-Cerullo-Carracci shoe store spontaneously catches fire. Michele accuses Gigliola of setting the fire with a lighter, but Gigliola argues that Lila can command the elements, even from afar.

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2024-11-07 19:56