Mica è colpa mia is the Italian rom-com we were missing

To talk about Mica è colpa mia, available on Netflix from January 1, we must discuss Antonio Folletto and another title that debuted on the same platform just weeks earlier, Ma chi ti conosce?. Setting aside the banality and superficiality of both titles (a 2025 resolution for Italian cinema should be to choose more distinctive titles), both works showcase strengths and weaknesses, with the common denominator being the Neapolitan actor born in '88. In both films, the actor portrays a romantic, penniless hero who only changes region, profession, and accent. In Mica è colpa mia, Folletto plays Vito, the father of little Napoleone, who is at risk of losing the house he was born in, located in Naples, and where he lives with his brother, played by Vincenzo Nemolato. On the other hand, he is Alessio, a Roman bricklayer residing in Bologna, who keeps appearing in the dreams of violinist Silvia, played by Simona Tabasco of The White Lotus.

What is amusing about connecting two films that seem to share only the same lead actor is uncovering the mechanisms and production dynamics of a mainstream Italian cinema that doesn’t achieve the celebratory numbers of Io e te dobbiamo parlare by the duo Siani-Pieraccioni, but could find its audience if some refinements were made. Not refinement in the highbrow sense, but simply more attention to screenwriting and significant changes to some staging choices. These adjustments could have made both Ma chi ti conosce? and Mica è colpa mia more enjoyable than they already are in parts.

Starting with Antonio Folletto: coarse, rugged, and brash on one hand, affectionate, paternal, and kind on the other, the actor has proven to be one of those recurring faces on Netflix in a genre we’ll never tire of and where he could become a representative, much like Lindsay Lohan with the platform’s new romantic comedies, including those during the holiday season. In Ma chi ti conosce?, alongside the enemies to lovers dynamic, there’s also a touch of improbable fantasy, as the protagonists find themselves repeatedly across different lives, roles, and professions - in one scene, their faces are superimposed onto bodies, seemingly using Canva. In Mica è colpa mia, the financial struggles of Vito and his brother, along with the need to keep their home to retain custody of his son, lead Vito to shed his tracksuit and earring, pretending to be a philanthropist building wells in impoverished countries. This act wins the support of the young daughter of a wealthy businessman, played by Laura Adriani, allowing him to pocket the money.

With a clear structure and measured, pleasantly predictable twists, the two comedies parallel each other in the realm of films that just need a bit more daring to truly stand out. They attempt this and succeed only intermittently, showing potential that’s frustrating to see underutilized. From questionable cinematography to careless editing, both films lack the attention to detail and ambition to take that extra step beyond delivering a good story—to wrap it up neatly and present it properly. Thankfully, the leads manage to engage the audience despite this. The chemistry works better between Folletto and Tabasco than between Folletto and Adriani, but in Mica è colpa mia, the duo that truly shines is Folletto and Nemolato's brotherly bond. Nemolato, a rising talent in the Italian scene, proves to be an asset worth acknowledging, from La chimera by Alice Rohrwacher to the series M - Il figlio del secolo. As 2025 begins and Italian cinema faces industry-wide challenges brought on by government changes, the hope is that comedy won’t be left behind and can incorporate that bit of unpretentious romance that late 2024 and early 2025 have scattered around. The goal is to continue improving—and in the meantime, to have a good laugh.