OSCARS 2026: Viva Verdi! (2025)

 

Hey, have you thought about opera lately? Probably not! I feel most people would agree that this particular style of singing and storytelling hasn't been a part of the cultural zeitgeist for a few hundred years. Nevertheless, the bel canto apparently has enough shooters that a recent tossed-off comment from Timothée Chalamet seems to have genuinely damaged his chances at winning an Oscar right in the final days of his campaign. He said that “no one cares” about opera and ballet anymore. That only a niche audience of hardcore supporters are still passionate about these art forms and he fears cinema might go down that same road. What makes the backlash all the more ironic is that a movie about opera is nominated for an Academy Award this year. “Viva Verdi!” is easily the most obscure of 2026's selected features, another Best Song nominee that was greeted with shrugs of confusion. Disinterest in its nominated song is such that the Academy has preemptively cut it from the broadcast. Almost as if the producers know that opera does not appeal to a mass audience or something! Nevertheless, “Viva Verdi!” itself is still out there for our consideration. Let's put all the chatter aside and discuss the film itself. 

For “Viva Verdi!,” filmmaker Yvonne Russo and her team spent several years among the residents of Casa di Riposo per Musicisti. Also known as simply Casa Verdi, this is a rest home and retirement community for older opera singers and musicians. Founded in the late 1890s by Giuseppe Verdi, he designed it to be a “shelter for elderly singers who have not been favoured by fortune.” The work continues to this day, the neo-Gothic building giving the aged singers and musicians a place to live and also to teach the next generation. Russo's camera mostly focuses on a few reoccurring faces: Former singer Claudio Giombi, Japanese immigrant Chitose Matsumoto, the walker dependent Anthony Kaplen, and a few others as they go about their days. Despite their advanced ages, they all continue to sing or play.

"Viva Verdi!" is fairly standard in its construction for a documentary. Most of the film is made up of interviews with the residents of the home, cut together with photos and footage from across their long careers and personal lives. This supported by fly-on-the-wall recording of daily life in Casa Verdi, with occasional pauses to explain the building's history. While nothing groundbreaking, there is a lot of value in hearing people simply tell their stories. Giombi emerges as the film's main character, a boisterous and colorful man devoted to his wife and his art form. When he opens up a suitcase and retrieves photos from across his career, the candor and joy he expresses is something to see. Matsumoto's life story is also a fascinating one, a Japanese woman who fell in love with opera so totally that she happily moved to Italy to dedicate the rest of her life to the profession. I also greatly appreciate that the film highlights not only the star singers but also the musicians.  A drummer, a violinist, and more get to tell their stories too. 

Opera singing is, to me, one of those talents that might as well be a superpower. I genuinely do not know how the human body can produce such resonating, powerful sounds. The level of training required to make your lungs and larynx bend so extremely must be staggering. Imagine my surprise when I saw such reverberating melodies come out of the mouths of old men and women in "Viva Verdi!" A memorable moment sees a former opera singer apologizing for her voice breaking, when I'm impressed she was able to make those sounds at all. Most of the residents of Casa Verdi are in their eighties and nineties. We see one resident having her 103rd birthday. Despite their advanced ages, most of the individuals interviewed in the film seem quite energetic and spritely. The suggestion, it would seem to me, is that pursuing your passion and doing what you love is a good way to keep yourself feeling young, even as your body starts to fail you. 

This, of course, is inevitable. We see Kaplen leaning on his walker and describing how he gets around a lot slower these days. One elderly man mourns his wife, who preceded him in death, and longs for the time they are reunited. "Viva Verdi!" ends, not exactly surprisingly, with epitaphs for several of the characters seen in the film. Despite the end being near for most of these men and women, the air around "Viva Verdi!" is not of solemnness but of celebration. Celebration of the lives of these artists and what they've accomplished, and still accomplish, and celebration of the music and art they all love.  The nominated theme song is entitled "Sweet Dreams of Joy" and carries along that feeling of effervescent excitement and glee. That's what I see more of in this film than anything else. 

I'll be honest with you, guys. I know almost nothing about opera. "Viva Verdi!" didn't exactly teach me much about the complexities of performing this style of singing, of the different types, genres, or placements in the theatre. Most of the historical segments focus on the history of Casa Verdi itself, describing the man who spearheaded its creation and his reasoning for doing so. This was based in a love for the people who performed his music and for the music itself. Which does not function exactly as a rebuttal to Chalamet's statement. We do see a younger generation learning this craft, meaning opera as an art form will continue. The film's overall obscurity and the advanced ages of its figures does suggest that the popularity of opera is dwindling. I don't know how to reverse the latter condition but the firmer has been somewhat resolved by "Viva Verdi's" producers. They quickly responded to its nomination by getting the doc on digital platforms as promptly as possible. Me and all the other Oscar Death Racers really appreciate that. [7/10]