What's After the Blog?
Explained
*Parthenope* weaves mythology, philosophy, and self-exploration into its mesmerizing story. Let’s break down its themes and symbolic meaning.
February 7, 2025
“Parthenope” is director Paolo Sorrentino’s latest cinematic tapestry, merging mythological motifs, dreamy visuals, and deeply personal storytelling. Since its release, audiences and critics alike have debated the significance of this movie’s all-consuming emphasis on beauty, the haunting presence of Naples as both city and metaphor, and the main character’s elusive journey toward self-discovery.
Below, we’ll break down the movie’s most important themes and symbols, from Parthenope as a modern siren figure to the cyclical, almost fatalistic presence of youth and loss in her life. If you’re curious to learn even more about this film—including movie quizzes, summaries, links to other sites with reviews, and more—you can visit *What’s After the Movie’s dedicated page for Parthenope. You’ll also find further resources on the What’s After the Movie blog, where this post is featured.
Spoiler Warning: The sections below discuss key events in the film in detail.
Parthenope (Celeste Dalla Porta) is introduced as a figure “born of the sea,” with a visually arresting water-birth in the Gulf of Naples in 1950. This opening scene immediately summons the Greek mythological origins of her name. The story then jumps to 1968, as Parthenope emerges from a swim—symbolic of her metaphorical “birth” into consciousness—and thus begins her journey through life in Naples.
We trace her transformation from carefree teen to serious anthropology student, a path that involves strange trysts (with both a mobster and a bishop), a doomed love triangle involving her brother Raimondo and childhood friend Sandrino, and a detour into acting. Each step forward both feeds and chips away at her sense of self, until she circles back to academia, under the guidance of the only man in her life who seems to value her mind more than her beauty. Throughout it all, she struggles with the burden of captivating everyone around her, knowing this allure can open doors but also cements her as an object of fascination.
The very name “Parthenope” references the siren of Greek myth who washed up on Naples’ shore, forging a connection between woman and city. In Sorrentino’s version, Parthenope serves as a modern siren, enchanting every person who crosses her path without fully revealing herself. This idea is reinforced by her constant proximity to the sea, both a literal and symbolic anchor.
Rather than a supernatural being, though, Parthenope is a young woman coming to terms with the power she wields in a male-dominated world. Her mix of intelligence and beauty becomes a double-edged sword, evoking the same contradictory pull the mythical siren once held over voyagers. She is alluring yet seemingly unattainable, paradoxically at the center of attention even as she wonders if anybody truly sees who she is on the inside.
Paolo Sorrentino portrays Naples not just as a backdrop but as a character that mirrors Parthenope’s complexity. The city’s streets are vibrant, bursting with music and communal celebrations one moment, then choking under the weight of corruption or an outbreak of cholera the next. In certain scenes—such as New Year’s Eve fireworks lighting the bay—Naples seems like a utopia of color and life; in others, it feels claustrophobic, a place Parthenope can’t fully escape.
Naples is more than a setting. It’s the magnetic field drawing her back, both bright and dark, uplifting and destructive. This duality underscores one of the film’s central points: that environment shapes identity. It’s a city whose beauty is its own burden, just like Parthenope’s appearance. She can leave physically, but Naples never stops calling her home.
One of Sorrentino’s long-standing fascinations is the tension between youth and beauty. For Parthenope, this interplay forms the core of her struggles. From the moment she steps out of the water, everyone around her views her as an object of desire, a muse to be possessed or worshipped. This relentless attention influences every choice she makes—even her attempts at anonymity in academia feel overshadowed by her commanding presence.
It doesn’t help that, in Sorrentino’s lush visual style, Parthenope is forever framed in soft, luminous shots that highlight her as a near-mythic figure. While we see glimpses of her intellectual depth—like the incisive questions she poses in anthropology class—we’re also reminded that the people around her often dismiss these qualities, fascinated more by her face and body. This tension begs the question: Can youth and beauty ever be separated from exploitation in a world that thrives on surface impressions?
Parthenope’s wrestling with her own identity is epitomized by her choice to study anthropology. In trying to understand people, cultures, and motivations, she’s essentially trying to understand herself. Yet at every turn, she’s confronted by forces—romantic suitors, a possessive brother, a jaded writer—who interpret her only in the context of their desires.
This constant external pressure collides head-on with the tragedy that befalls her family. Her brother Raimondo’s deep obsession and eventual suicide become a defining pivot, fueling her guilt and propelling her toward a new sense of resolve. She dabbles in acting, half-heartedly tries to move on, and yearns to transcend Naples altogether. But fate seems woven into her story, as if the city itself wrote her into its mythic tapestry. Whether Parthenope believes destiny is escapable or not, the film suggests it’s a weight she will carry no matter where she goes.
Sorrentino’s signature dreamlike sequences appear throughout Parthenope, layering surreal events onto a realist setting. At times, these moments are pure spectacle, like the flamboyant helicopter ride of a wealthy admirer or the bizarre ceremony uniting two mafia families. In other moments, the spectacle takes a darker turn, highlighting a cholera outbreak or a church official’s predatory behavior.
Almost every scene in the movie hides symbolic subtext. A city festival abruptly interrupted by a funeral procession, for instance, shows the collision of life’s vibrancy and mortality. Parthenope’s cameo-like run-ins with famous figures (like a drunken John Cheever) underscore the movie’s exploration of desire versus art, beauty versus suffering. These flourishes may feel disconnected from a strictly linear plot, but they weave a thematic tapestry: beauty, tragedy, desire, identity, all swirling in a city that seems more myth than reality.
In the film’s final stretch, we see Parthenope decades later (played in a poignant cameo by Stefania Sandrelli). She’s no longer the carefree young woman, but the city of Naples remains as tumultuous as ever. She returns, perhaps seeking resolution. Or perhaps, like the mythical siren, she’s simply drawn to the only shore that ever felt like home.
In that concluding scene, she watches modern-day revelers celebrating a soccer victory, their ecstatic joy a testament to Naples’ undying spirit. Her resigned but gentle sigh suggests acceptance rather than defeat. It’s as if she’s finally recognized her story and the city’s story are one and the same. She may have spent her life running from Naples’ gravitational pull, but her destiny and that of the city are forever intertwined. The myth of Parthenope continues in the collective memory, an eternal dance between possibility and fate.
If you’ve finished watching Parthenope and want to delve deeper into critical insights or general audience reactions, check out these links for detailed breakdowns, ratings, and ongoing discussions:
And don’t forget to visit What’s After the Movie’s dedicated page for Parthenope to find:
Ultimately, Parthenope stands as a lavish yet introspective examination of beauty, identity, and fate. The character of Parthenope brims with both power and fragility, mirroring the city that birthed her myth. Sorrentino takes us on a meandering path that defies conventional storytelling, using surreal tangents, visual grandeur, and haunting tragedies to craft a singular mood.
Whether you view Parthenope as a siren trapped by her own allure or as a defiant wanderer yearning to break the bonds of destiny, the film leaves you contemplating questions that resonate far beyond its final frame: How much does our place of origin shape us, and can we ever truly sever those ties? Are we fated to repeat certain cycles, or do we possess the strength to transcend them? For Parthenope, these questions remain an open sea—an invitation to the viewer to interpret, explore, and perhaps listen for the siren song within themselves.
For further exploration, including quizzes, additional reviews, and discussions, check out What’s After the Movie. The conversation doesn’t end when the credits roll—it’s only just begun.
What's After the Movie?
Not sure whether to stay after the credits? Find out!
Check out our other apps:
Explore Our Movie Platform
New Movie Releases (2025)
Famous Movie Actors
Top Film Production Studios
Movie Plot Summaries & Endings
Major Movie Awards & Winners
Best Concert Films & Music Documentaries
© 2025 What's After the Movie. All rights reserved.