Released in 2017, The Little Hours is a unique and uproarious comedy that defies easy categorization. Directed and written by Jeff Baena, the film takes the bare-bones narrative framework from the first story of the third day of Giovanni Boccaccio’s 14th-century masterpiece, The Decameron , and injects it with a distinctly modern, foul-mouthed, and stoner-comedy sensibility. The result is a film that feels both ancient and anarchic, a period piece where nuns gossip like mean girls, curses fly with abandon, and the sacred and the profane collide in a convent walled off from the Black Death-ravaged world outside.
Baena shot the film on location at the historic Monastero di Sant’Anna in Tuscany, giving it an authentic, earthy, and beautiful backdrop. The cinematography is naturalistic and warm, contrasting sharply with the raunchy dialogue. The film’s aesthetic is deliberately anachronistic: the language is modern, the haircuts are slightly off, and the characters’ psychological motivations are thoroughly 21st-century. The score, by Dan Romer, blends medieval-sounding folk music with playful, percussive elements, further enhancing the film’s unique tone. The Little Hours
The film is set in a small, sleepy convent in Garfagnana, Italy, circa 1347. The convent is a hotbed of simmering resentments, sexual frustration, and profound boredom. The small community of nuns is led by the weary, pragmatic, and often tipsy Mother Superior (a brilliant deadpan performance by John C. Reilly, in a role originally written for a woman). Her charges include the volatile and perpetually enraged Sister Fernanda (Aubrey Plaza), the sweet but impressionable Sister Ginevra (Kate Micucci), and the gossipy, self-absorbed Sister Alessandra (Alison Brie). They are served by a beleaguered groundskeeper, the mute dwarf Donato (an uncredited Fred Armisen). Released in 2017, The Little Hours is a
The film stands as a singular achievement: a medieval nun comedy that is filthy, hilarious, surprisingly thoughtful about faith and repression, and deeply humane in its portrayal of flawed, desperate women. It takes a dusty literary classic and transforms it into a rowdy, foul-mouthed party that respects its source material’s core themes while gleefully trashing its solemnity. The Little Hours is not for the prudish or the pious, but for anyone who appreciates the anarchic joy of watching sacred cows being led to a very profane slaughter. Baena shot the film on location at the