Rome is more than a city steeped in historical nostalgia and romance; beneath its timeless beauty lie currents of violence, sex, and crime. Adapted from the bestselling investigative nonfiction book by Italian author Nicola Lagioia, Edoardo Gabbriellini’s “The City of the Living” (original title: La città dei vivi, 2026) tells a heartbreaking, unsettling story about a young man’s shocking death while tracing his drifting life in a Rome quietly consumed by unknown crises.
Luca Varani (Emanuele Maria Di Stefano) is adopted as an infant by loving parents Silvana (Simona Senzacqua) and Giuseppe (Valerio Mastandrea) and grows up in a disadvantaged family that runs a candy truck. Now in his early twenties, he spends time with a group of folks and dates his attentive girlfriend, Marta (Gaia Merlonghi), who works in a busy restaurant and dreams of living with Luca one day. He is about to drop out of school, hoping to earn money and help support his family.
One might think initially that he is simply leading an ordinary social life, no different from anyone else his age. Yet as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Luca is living a double life, turning tricks on the side to make quick money. This hidden aspect of his life places him in increasingly perilous situations, ultimately contributing to the twisted tragedy that destroys his future.
The fatal night begins when Andreas (Andrea Isidori), a street-smart pimp whom Luca meets by chance near a train station, promises to take him to a wild party involving sex and uninhibited drug use. Although Luca feels out of place at times, he is pressured into taking off his trousers to satisfy the others’ lust. Yet in the face of financial desperation, dignity seems to carry little currency. When two of the partygoers later ask him to return, Luca skips his regular shift at an auto body shop before heading to a remote residence, unaware of what awaits him.
The scheme is set in motion, and the denouement is already written. After hearing the devastating news of their son’s death, Marta and Luca’s parents are overwhelmed by immense grief. Bearing the suspended mystery, they quietly accept the truth and attempt to carry on with their lives in the shadow of the murder. The ending feels deliberately powerless, but this is precisely how reality enters the story, with a cruelty that feels both inevitable and impossible to escape.
Unlike the egregious real-life case that shocked the nation, the adaptation is less a high-pitched drama than a restrained look back. Gabbriellini consistently follows Luca’s trajectory, attempting to present an overview of a life marked by loss and confusion. He does not offer a definitive interpretation of the incident, nor does he provide a single explanation for its cause. Instead, he observes Luca’s everyday life with remarkable patience, presenting him as an imperfect yet essentially innocent victim. In the real event, Manuel Foffo and Marco Prato were identified as the infamous murderers, whereas in the film, their identities are left obscured.
Likewise, cinematographer Amine Messadi adopts a naturalistic style, capturing the city’s texture from a measured distance and allowing an organic interplay to emerge between the space and the people who inhabit it. When Luca wanders through the city centre, one can almost sense the volatility underlying Rome, a historic metropolis whose complexities are not brought to the fore yet linger beneath the surface of the film.
While the film’s title makes an ambitious promise by placing “the city” at its centre, Rome never quite becomes the focus. The vagueness of its urban landscape may be the result of the filmmaker’s particular restraint, but it also means that the film misses an opportunity to make this place feel truly distinctive — if not under such circumstances. Luca is, of course, only one of many. Yet to what extent does he represent “the living” — the ordinary working-class people who probably share their whole lives with this city? Gabbriellini leaves that question unresolved.
Be that as it may, the first time we see Di Stefano appear on screen, we’d be convinced that he is the real embodiment of the original character. The actor gives Luca an easygoing physicality and an unforced charm that make him feel vividly, almost disarmingly alive. His emotional range across romance, family conflict, and everyday uncertainty prevents him from becoming merely a figure in a crime story. His buoyant presence stands in striking contrast to the weight of history that permeates the city.
Ultimately, “The City of the Living” offers a limited but effective perspective on its central character, re-enacting the incident itself in an almost aloof, understated manner. Across its 103-minute running time, the film delves into the invisible abyss of human experience, exploring an inextricable tragedy through empathy, restraint, and quiet observation. It leaves us with something more unsettling: a life that can be observed, but never fully explained.
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The City of the Living (2026) Movie Links: IMDb, Letterboxd