Liam Neeson and his son, Michael Richardson, in a poster of the movie "Made in Italy"

By Eleanor Ringel Cater

“Made in Italy” looks like a real movie.

But like a cheap knock-off of a trendy gadget, it might as well be tagged “Made in Japan.”

Liam Neeson stars as Robert, a once-celebrated artist, doomed to a gruff reclusiveness by personal demons and the tragic death, years earlier, of his beloved wife. Instead of picking up a paintbrush, he’s more likely to pick up much younger women, named Jessica or Jennifer or something.

Liam Neeson and his son, Michael Richardson, in a poster of the movie “Made in Italy”
Liam Neeson and his son, Michael Richardson, in a poster of the movie “Made in Italy”

His estranged son, Jack, played by Neeson’s real-life son, Michael Richardson, is similarly at sea. His job as a gallery manager in a posh section of London is about to disappear. The space is owned by his soon-to-be ex’s parents, and along with the divorce papers, she’s delivered the unhappy news that they intend to sell the place.

Jack decides to buy the gallery himself, but his only way to raise some quick cash is to get back together with his dad and get him to sell the family’s long-abandoned vacation villa in Tuscany.

So, it’s off to Italy where, if you’ve seen “Under the Tuscan Sun,” they discover a suitably (for movies) distressed mansion with magnificent views and lousy plumbing. And, if you’ve seen Russell Crowe’s “A Good Year,” they encounter a suitably spunky (and gorgeous) local (Valeria Bilello), who owns a restaurant in the nearby town.

There’s also an age-appropriate real-estate woman, Kate (Lindsay Duncan), who spars – appropriately – with Robert.

Gosh, do you think that, after they spruce the place up, they’ll keep the villa and move to Italy?

A scene from “Made in Italy”
A scene from “Made in Italy”

Ah, but then there’d be no movie and, well, that’s the problem here. There really isn’t much of a movie. There are luscious Italian dinners and some clumsy renovation slapstick and a plethora of adorable villagers and melancholy strains of unexamined grief between father and son.  But while none of it is offensive or painful, none of it is especially entertaining either.

As some of you might remember, Natasha Richardson, Neeson’s wife (and Richardson’s mother), died tragically in a skiing accident in 2009.

So, there’s something slightly unsettling in the picture’s exploration of the characters’ shared grief. Further, father and son have no chemistry. Or maybe it’s that, despite his blessed DNA, Richardson isn’t all that talented. Perhaps trying to match his kid’s low-ball efforts, Neeson comes off as similarly wooden.

With its delicious cast and setting, “Made in Italy” promises a lot but delivers very little. It’s as if someone decided he or she wanted an all-expenses-paid Mediterranean vacation, and this was the best way to do it.

“Made in Italy” is available to be viewed on Amazon Prime Video.

Eleanor Ringel, Movie Critic, was the film critic for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution for almost 30 years. She was nominated multiple times for a Pulitzer Prize. She won the Best of Cox Critic, IMAGE...

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4 Comments

  1. Not a fan of the Japan bashing headline. 1. Japan produces high quality exports and has for a long time. 2. Why pick on a country?

    The movie was bad, but the critique need not be.

  2. I just saw a movie with Natasha Richardson in it. Then the next channel had this movie with Liam Neeson and his son. So, I watched it. It seems it was done as a cathartic piece for Liam and his son Michael. Perhaps they really never did speak after his mother passed. Perhaps they never grieved together or got passed the grief? But I continued to watch it even though it needed more comedy to uplift the film in areas. A little too much of a downer, but I enjoy watching Liam act. His son made a decent attempt, but Liam truly knows how to tap into his emotions, which is why he gives a boring line, animation.
    It was a slow film, but I found it more informational. It seemed they were talking about themselves.

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