From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A farmer lives alone in an Italian rural area. when a mysterious woman shows up with an unexpected gift, Fosco's daily routine is disrupted.”
There’s a rather solid fifth season episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation called “The Game.” In it, Starfleet cadet Wesley Crusher (played by the insufferable Wil Wheaton) takes a vacation from his studies in returning to the Starship Enterprise only to slowly discover that most of the crew have been overcome by a virtual reality game that lothario-turned-officer William Riker brought back from a randy bout of shore leave. Slowly, the game has been hypnotically reprogramming the ship’s complement to answer to the Ktarian people as this alien species had their heart set on somehow overtaking Starfleet piece by piece. In customary small screen Star Trek fashion, Crusher uncovers the plot and saves the day, once again proving that we – as a species – are prescient to approach all of these technological wonders with a healthy dose of skepticism.
A few decades later, writer/director Marco Calvise has kinda/sorta re-interpreted the premise but with the vastly more contemporary framework of internet-based interconnectivity, social anxieties, and the growing backdrop of untethered Artificial Intelligence. In his film The Marianas Web (2025), the storyteller has essentially shaved off all of the niceties of civilization, instead setting his Tech Noir in the unlikely setting of rural Italy: a simple, lonely farmer named Fosco (played by Ruben Maria Soriquez) tends to what remains of his deceased family’s herd of cows. Though Fosco has taken a romantic shine to the comely local Adelaide (Asia Galeotti) in a relationship that extends to ‘friends with benefits,’ he’d rather spend his evenings online in the vast array of faux courtships he’s cultivated with exotic women all around the world. It’s here – in this highly sanitized and industrial setting clinically void of human contact – that he feels most at ease with himself, expressing his thoughts and desire to nameless and largely faceless acquaintances.
Slowly, Fosco finds himself drawn to a single voice: Mariana (Alexa Ocampo) bills herself as an ‘internet model’ seeking a soulmate who is ready, willing, and able to play the ‘Dark Master’ to her online schtick as a ‘Dark Mistress.’ Unable to resist the temptation, our lowly farmer succumbs to a casual bit of sexting with the lady, but he seemingly breaks off the relationship once a Virtual Reality headset shows up via a shipping courier despite the fact that he’s never exchanged his real identity and address with Mariana. Believing he’s been hacked – the ultimate invasion of his privacy – Fosco instead recommits to blending in with his few local friends, including Adelaide and her family. However, the young woman is suddenly and tragically struck dead by the freak explosion of her cell phone after exchanging texts with her beau, leaving the impression that Mariana has indeed gone to great lengths to ensure that she – thus far little more than a digital creation – must remain the center of Fosco’s affections.
The title – The Marianas Web – is a play on words meant to align with the real-life location of the Mariana’s Trench. Considered one of the most dangerous places on the Earth, the trench lies deep, deep, deep beneath the sea wherein absolutely crushing pressure and near total darkness make human life impossible without the of technology. Even with the proper gear and acceptable conditions, it’s still a location prone to seismic activity as well as leaving submarines essentially cut off from any type of effective communication. Comparatively, Fosco wanders into his own Marianas terrain – this one with the advent of an optical sensor that seemingly taps into his neurological systems – and he finds himself doing and saying and believing life itself is collapsing. Seemingly, his only way out is to act on some of his own darkest impulses, plunging his fragile psyche down into a rabbit hole wherein no one returns.
Chiefly, the problem with stories like Web is that they invest heavily in the ‘unreliable narrator.’ Reality and unreality collide in Fosco’s daily life, so much so that it grows increasingly difficult to ascertain fact from fiction. While we see him committing a few dark deeds in the build-up to the finale, Calvise presents these events in a way that leads them open to interpretation by the audience. Sometimes, Fosco behaves badly while wearing the evil-inducing visor; and at other times he’s displayed as not wearing it, and flickering images of contrary scenes burst across the screen. Even though I believe that the farmer fully embraced the bloody choices Mariana and (seemingly) the World Wide Web required of him, there’s just enough space left for doubt. Such narrative trickery might work for some, but I’ve always rather critically insisted that descents into madness – while visionary – should still provide the closure necessary for me to accept one conclusion beyond a reasonable doubt. That doesn’t quite happen here.
Additionally, Web is the kind of picture that percolates. It definitely takes its time to make what few noble points it does; and I’m wondering if some might turn it off before the good stuff finally arrives.
The film opens with a scene of violence – a crazed woman wearing the film’s seminal eyewear goes on a bloody rampage through a backroom nightclub – only to them dissolve into the wider story exploring Fosco, his life, his cows, and the like. It isn’t until, roughly, thirty minutes later that the audience is let in on the opening’s connection when our humble farmer receives his own set of tech glassies via courier. Frankly, nothing would have been sacrificed in the story had that early sequence had been completed truncated, leaving this entirely the story of a simple man and how technology suddenly hijacked the very core of his existence. If anything, the opening merely pads Web’s running time; but even in that case what remained could’ve been a vastly better paced short film, one that could even have served as a single episode in some Black Mirror or The Twilight Zone style anthology.
What’s important to keep in mind regardless is that The Marianas Web isn’t some big budget stylized extrapolation about how unchecked, self-aware machinery might be the death of us all. It’s an independent production constructed with that foundation; and – on that level – I think it worked quite well with its limitations. The performances – though small – hit the proper notes; and it never reaches the level of feeling forced or preachy with artifice the way some Hollywood blockbusters do. Yes, it’s a bit long for what it does; but there’s still something in here for those of us who like cerebral stories as opposed to bloated cinematic spectacles that have been done before. We’ve seen this story … but we’ve rarely seen it on this small scale.
The Marianas Web (2025) was produced by See Thru Pictures and Singularities Film Production. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been handled by the fine folks at Leomark Studios. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are mostly quite good: there’s a bit of special effects trickery here and there that isn’t exactly the best quality stuff, but it works just fine for the purposes of the web being spun. (snicker snicker) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, unless I miss my guess, there isn’t anything on here. Seriously. I couldn’t even access a disc menu. It happens, I guess.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended … and – even then – only for diehard SciFi junkies who are willing to wait awhile for the plot to find itself.
Honestly, it isn’t that The Marianas Web is a bad movie because – as a low-budget import – it’s actually quite interesting if not occasionally engrossing. Its biggest flaw is the pacing as writer/director Calvise simply takes far too (damn) long to establish the central premise after a frenetic set-up that completely disappears until the last reel (or so). (Casual viewers might wonder if they’re stumbled into a National Geographic milking tutorial, so be patient.) Furthermore, it isn’t that the idea of a coldly, calculating, invasive technological villain hasn’t been done to death in film; but it is rather pleasant seeing that A.I. – or Skynet, if you know the reference – will never ever lose sight of compromising even that nothing-of-a-specimen who lives in a van down by the river (or on a cow farm in the middle of nowhere). This one would’ve likely worked better as an hour-long episode of some genre-based anthology than it does a fully-realized theatrical production.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Leomark Studios (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Marianas Web (2025) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
RSS Feed