Stripping away the romanticism found in most gangster films, Gomorrah presents a candid and shockingly disturbing portrayal of the criminal underworld in Naples, Italy.      

Based on the controversial book by Roberto Saviano – whose expose on the Naples mafia, the Camorra, has led to his being in police protection for the last several years – Gomorrah is a amalgamation of several storylines: A poor adolescent (Nicolo Manta) becomes a drug runner in order to make big money; two wannabe gangsters (Marco Macor and Ciro Petrone) get in other their heads with the mob; a toxic waste management graduate (Carmine Paternoser) grows disillusioned after witnessing his mentor (Toni Servillo) illegally dump hazardous materials on several occasions; a tailor for a high class fashion chain (Salvatore Cantalupo) has a hit placed on him after agreeing to teach garment techniques to the rival Chinese; and a middle man who hands out allowances to the families of jailed “soldiers” (Gianfelice Imparato),  finds himself in a conflicted position between two warring factions within the Camorra.    

The majority of these stores take place in the slums of Naples, which is infected with the same social diseases –drugs, murder, poverty – seen in places as vast as Compton, Los Angeles (Boyz ‘n’ the Hood), and Cidade de Dues, Rio de Janeiro (City of God), which is exploited by criminal elements set to make a profit from suffering.

A major backdrop is a rundown apartment complex, of which director Matteo Garrone presents with an innovative flair, using varied camera techniques and tracking shots, the viewer breathing in this world of violence and despair.

Gomorrah feels real, dirty, and seedy: an anti-recruitment mafia film, suitably bereft of the flair of Martin Scorsese’s Goodfellas punk rock; Francis Ford Coppola’s Godfather opera; and Brian De Palma’s slick Scarface 1980s disco.

There are no sharp suits or Cadillac’s. Rather, we are presented with unglamorous scavengers, over tanned and unfit, draped in tracksuits and gold chains. In fact, the only caricatures in Gomorrah are Marco Macor’s and Ciro Petrone’s gangster pretenders, who strive to live by the “ethics” of their idol, Tony Montana (Al Pacino’s ruthless creation from Scarface), re-enacting scenes from the famed film as if they were playing cops and gangster’s, only with real weapons.

The violence, too, is impressive in its blunt depiction. The film opening scene, where three mobsters are killed in a tanning salon, sets the tone that Gomorrah will not play by the standards placed beforehand. Another scene which features young bullet proof vest clad teens taking a bullet as a display of loyalty and machismo, prompts the question: is a life immersed in greed and terrorism really worth its petty rewards? Gomorrah shows why it is not.