Dry

The Tiber River is usually the shimmering, greenish artery of Rome, but in Paolo Virzì’s Dry (Siccità), it has been reduced to a cracked, sandy graveyard of discarded shopping carts, rusted Vespas, and ancient secrets that were better off buried. Imagine the Eternal City without its fountains. No Trevi, no Four Rivers, just a relentless, yellow haze and a population that hasn't seen a raindrop in three years. It’s a terrifying premise that feels less like a distant sci-fi warning and more like a Tuesday morning in our current climate-anxious reality.

I watched this film on a Tuesday evening while nursing a lukewarm bottle of sparkling water that had gone flat, and let me tell you, I have never felt more guilty about a half-empty glass in my life. The film has this uncanny ability to make your throat feel dusty from the opening frame.

A Pandemic Movie in Disguise

Released in 2022, Dry is inextricably linked to the "Great Pause" we all endured. While it ostensibly deals with a water shortage, it’s arguably the most accurate "post-pandemic" movie ever made without actually being about a virus. You see the echoes everywhere: the state-mandated restrictions, the predatory experts on talk shows, the sudden social hierarchies based on who has access to a "resource," and that specific brand of frayed-nerve irritability that comes from being stuck in a crisis for too long.

Director Paolo Virzì (who gave us the delightful Like Crazy) teams up with writer Francesco Piccolo to weave a sprawling, multi-character narrative that feels like a Roman update to Robert Altman’s Short Cuts or Paul Haggis’s Crash, but with significantly better food. We follow a dozen different souls—from a convict who accidentally walks out of prison because the gates were left open, to a narcissistic social media influencer—all navigating a city that is literally and metaphorically dying of thirst.

The Beautifully Miserable Romans

The ensemble cast is the real draw here. Silvio Orlando, a veteran of Italian cinema who was so hauntingly good in The Young Pope, plays Antonio, a man who has been behind bars so long he doesn't realize the world has turned into a dust bowl. His journey across the parched city is the emotional spine of the film. Then there’s Valerio Mastandrea (from the excellent Perfect Strangers), playing Loris, an Uber driver who sees visions of historical figures in his rearview mirror. Mastandrea is the king of the "exhausted everyman" archetype, and here he looks like he’s made entirely of cigarettes and regret.

And we have to talk about Monica Bellucci. Playing Valentina, an aging actress navigating her own waning relevance amidst the apocalypse, she proves once again that she’s far more than just a screen icon; she’s a sharp comedic force. Her scenes are biting, portraying a high society that is one glass of Prosecco away from a total nervous breakdown while the rest of the city fights over a communal tap.

The cinematography by Luca Bigazzi—the man who made Rome look like a dream in The Great Beauty—is doing the opposite here. He captures a city that is bleached out, sweaty, and claustrophobic. You can almost smell the stagnant air. Even the plague of cockroaches that eventually descends on the city (a delightful little touch of biblical horror) feels strangely grounded in the film’s gritty reality.

Why This One Slipped Through the Cracks

Despite the star power and the high-concept premise, Dry didn't exactly set the international box office on fire. It’s a "streaming era" casualty—a mid-budget, foreign-language adult drama that requires patience and an appreciation for interlocking subplots. In an era where audiences are trained to look for a singular hero’s journey, Dry offers a messy, democratic view of disaster. It’s not about one person saving the world; it’s about a bunch of flawed, often unlikeable people trying to find a reason to keep going when the taps run dry.

One of the coolest behind-the-scenes details is that the production actually utilized the real-life record-low levels of the Tiber during the 2022 drought. They didn't need a massive CGI budget to show a dried-up river; they just had to wait for the world to catch up to the script. It gives the film a documentary-like weight that offsets some of its more satirical, comedic beats.

The film does occasionally stumble under the weight of its own ambition. With so many characters, a few arcs feel a bit thin—specifically the younger "influencer" plotline, which feels like it’s trying a little too hard to be 'relevant' for the TikTok generation. But when it hits, especially in the final act where the various threads begin to fray and knot together, it’s deeply moving.

Ultimately, Dry is a film about the things that connect us when the infrastructure of our lives fails. It asks what survives when the water stops flowing: Is it greed? Is it violence? Or is it that stubborn, slightly absurd Italian capacity for hope? It’s a dark, witty, and visually arresting piece of contemporary cinema that deserves a spot on your "to-watch" list, ideally enjoyed with a very large, very cold glass of water nearby.

It’s a reminder that even in the middle of a catastrophe, we’re still just humans—petty, thirsty, and occasionally, surprisingly kind to one another. Just maybe keep an eye out for the cockroaches.