It's not about the cheesy operatic group, nor, for that matter does it deal with an unwell new wave pop group. Nope, Il Divo covers the final term of seven-time prime minister of Italy Giulio Andreotti - which ended with many allegations of his long-term connections with organised crime. Andreotti - played by Toni Servillo - with his hunched back, Nosferatu pallor and general air of constant, quiet malevolence is an instantly recognisable figure to Italian audiences but it doesn't matter if you're unfamiliar with him. It's a complex tale of power and corruption that plays out like a dark satire. As the bodies pile up, Andreotti dodges so much blame it becomes funny; a key line in the movie ponders whether Andreotti is either the most evasive criminal or simply the most persecuted man ever. It's very much Servillo's show. You can almost smell the brimstone as he glides in and out of scenes. Everyone in the film is either talking to him or talking about him. He grabs your attention in the most subtle ways, barely moving, never smiling or exhibiting any charm, just smouldering evil. But to counter Andreotti's static malevolence, director Paulo Sorrentino whirls his camera around with wild abandon. He shoots political scenes like they're action sequences, and as for the actual action sequences, here, he really lets himself go. The film has incredible visual flair, hurling the viewer around every nook and cranny with shots that reveal more and more drama and detail as they progress. Also worth noing is the lively soundtrack, mixing Saint-Saëns and Sibelius with pop hits such as Trio's Da Da Da.