Gomorrah: The Origins review – a mob prequel so stylish you’ll look for Al Pacino

There’s a cheekiness, freshness and tenderness to this show that sets it apart from standard crime dramas. It’s so wonderfully rich that the Godfather cast wouldn’t be out of placeIt’s worth it just for the leather. The prequel to formidable Neapolitan mobster saga Gomorrah hurls us into the filthy bustle of Secondigliano, a broken quarter of northern Naples which, in 1977, has been abandoned by God and government, leaving organised crime as the only alternative to destitution. But even in this purgatory, the style of the city and the late 70s abides: the young men of Secondigliano might not be able to escape their fate, but they’ll look fantastic trying.Sashaying forcefully through the throng is Angelo (Francesco Pellegrino), with his messianic collar-length curls, eyes that seem to mascara themselves and an array of spectacular leather jackets. Kids gather to gawp when his car skids to a dusty halt and Angelo, chest hair and medallion nestling in the open collar of a patterned silk shirt in two exquisite shades of brown, emerges and strides to his next appointment. Angelo is in his early 20s and is the hippest gangster in his neighbourhood, but he bears the pained intensity of the thwarted: on a citywide level he has no sway, and he’s worked out that the cut of the action the big bosses give him is a paltry percentage of the overall pie. His crew, sporting their own leather outerwear in boxy mustard or calf-length burgundy, are happy enough, but Angelo wants more. Continue reading...

Gomorrah: The Origins review – a mob prequel so stylish you’ll look for Al Pacino

There’s a cheekiness, freshness and tenderness to this show that sets it apart from standard crime dramas. It’s so wonderfully rich that the Godfather cast wouldn’t be out of place

It’s worth it just for the leather. The prequel to formidable Neapolitan mobster saga Gomorrah hurls us into the filthy bustle of Secondigliano, a broken quarter of northern Naples which, in 1977, has been abandoned by God and government, leaving organised crime as the only alternative to destitution. But even in this purgatory, the style of the city and the late 70s abides: the young men of Secondigliano might not be able to escape their fate, but they’ll look fantastic trying.

Sashaying forcefully through the throng is Angelo (Francesco Pellegrino), with his messianic collar-length curls, eyes that seem to mascara themselves and an array of spectacular leather jackets. Kids gather to gawp when his car skids to a dusty halt and Angelo, chest hair and medallion nestling in the open collar of a patterned silk shirt in two exquisite shades of brown, emerges and strides to his next appointment. Angelo is in his early 20s and is the hippest gangster in his neighbourhood, but he bears the pained intensity of the thwarted: on a citywide level he has no sway, and he’s worked out that the cut of the action the big bosses give him is a paltry percentage of the overall pie. His crew, sporting their own leather outerwear in boxy mustard or calf-length burgundy, are happy enough, but Angelo wants more.

Continue reading...