Review of Household Saints (1993) by John C — 07 Mar 2017

Being second generation Italian-American, with a Father who was famous for his scrumptious homemade sausage, going to Catholic School, living in these time periods, and loving Puccini--well, I have to admit y perspective on this film is bound to be a bit skewed. That said, I strongly believe 50% of the critics have messed up on this one. The story evolves as half-reality, half-myth, with a heavy does of nostalgia for a time not so long ago, rendering it capable of being read in any way that a viewer might want to. Believers will adore its quiet intensity, in the character of the young girl/woman brought to life in a tour de force by the wonderful Lilly Taylor. Non-believers will on board with her anti-religion father (at least until the last few minutes), another great job of acting by the talented Vincent D'Onofrio. Yet the real acting surprise here is comedian Tracy Ullman who was able to transform herself into a very believable and sensitive portrayal of a shy and sheltered young Italian-American woman.

Going through profound transformation in the two decades through which the story unfolds. I was precisely the same age as Teresa Santangelo at the time the Pope was supposed to reveal the Third Prophecy at Fatima (believers convinced that the Virgin Mary appeared to 3 simple farm children revealing great secrets, the first of two which proved to come true); like her, I was greatly disappointed when he chose not to reveal it. Rumors still abound as to the reason why. But its importance in the story is that this propels the little girl Teresa into the young adult with a hyper-religiosity which rules the rest of her life. There is great comedy in the scene where a somewhat bawdy yet polite young Jesus appears to her and causes her to see hundreds of checkered shirts like the one she is ironing for her creepy and overenthusiastic boyfriend. It returns near the end where she describes God the Father as a fan of the very same thumb-scale tilting and cheating at pinochle that marks her own father. Throw in the marvelous Grandmother from the Old Country, with her strange beliefs that the uneducated had back there, and the fact that her father "wins" her mother as his wife in the one pinochle game that he did not cheat at (drawing nothing but hearts, a mathematical absurdity), and that Teresa may very well have become a modern version of the very Saint that she modeled her life after, and I see a marvelous story, told with verve and imagination, sensitive and touching while believing in itself. Ignore the critics and listen to me--this is a gem that should not be missed, even now 24 years after its release.