Some movies aren’t just about keeping you entertained. They’re meant to jolt you awake.
“The Miracle Child” (La santa piccola) might sound like something out of a fairy tale, but in truth, it’s more of a raw prayer whispered quietly amidst the crumbling ruins of daily existence.
At its core, the story follows Lino and Mario, two young boys navigating their way through a destitute and chaotic neighborhood in Naples. They zip around on scooters, take on odd jobs here and there, and simply float through life, waiting for some kind of change—anything, really.
Everything shifts when Lino’s younger sister, Annetta, becomes the focus of a local frenzy. People begin to believe she’s capable of performing miracles. A saint has emerged, not within the hallowed walls of a church, but right in the middle of a society on the brink of collapse. Suddenly, Lino’s life is no longer his own.
“People believe what they want to. Especially when it’s easier than facing the truth.”
— Lino
⛪ The Weight of Faith
“The Miracle Child” (2021) doesn’t attack religion. Instead, it challenges what happens when faith is turned into a weapon—when miracles become a means of survival, a way to distract, and a tool for control.
Lino is swept up into a story he never asked for. While the entire town watches his sister, no one sees the silent struggle within him. The battle with his own identity, his unspoken feelings for Mario, and his quiet refusal to be consumed by the myths and poverty around him.
“She’s a miracle, not a freak.”
— Mario, standing up for Annetta in front of his girlfriend
🎭 Quiet Fires of Love
This film speaks softly, almost shyly. The camera never shouts; it merely observes. Every lingering look, every silence, and every still frame holds a weight of its own.
Francesco Pellegrino, playing Lino, is nothing short of mesmerizing. His performance carries a heaviness, filled with thoughts left unspoken—a boy forced to grow up too soon, carrying more than anyone should have to.
The bond between Lino and Mario is tender and undefined, but full of deep emotion. There’s no physical affection, only glances that communicate volumes without a single word.
And that’s the movie’s true miracle—the love that persists even when it’s forbidden to bloom.
🌑 What Lingers When the Lights Fade?
“The Miracle Child” (2021) isn’t for everyone. It’s quiet, slow, and doesn’t lead you by the hand. But if you’ve ever felt lost, or loved someone you couldn’t even name out loud, this film will nestle in your chest like a secret you’re still trying to decipher.
Because sometimes, the most sacred things aren’t the ones that are believed in—they’re the ones we protect when no one’s looking.
