The Kidnapping of Arabella

ITALY, 2025.

RELEASE DATE: 4 December 2025 (Italy); T.B.A. elsewhere. 

Written and directed by Carolina Cavalli, The Kidnapping of Arabella is a deceptively lighthearted road-trip satire that gradually reveals profound questions. A casual meeting between two unlikely allies blooms into a search for meaning and a quest for identity. Like all quests, the destination may not be as consequential as the obstacles encountered along the way.

The opening scenes introduce the protagonists through random snapshots of their lives accompanied by voice-over narration, à la Wes Anderson. We learn that Holly (Benedetta Porcaroli) is a disillusioned young woman with a dreary job and a cynical attitude. When she meets a brattish little girl named Arabella (Lucrezia Guglielmino), she immediately feels connected to her, so much so that she genuinely believes that a glitch in the universe has brought her face-to-face with a younger version of herself. She interprets this as being given a second chance and decides to take the little girl on a journey: if she can help Arabella pursue her dreams, she may be making amends for her own perceived failures, or so she believes. 

They set out on a road-trip marked by plenty of bickering but also genuine affection and a string of amusing episodes. Their journey becomes a power game balancing vulnerability and control. Letting down their shields allows them to connect, but in order to obtain their goals they must resort to a subtle psychological manipulation of the other – a trick they’re both skilled at. Meanwhile, Arabella’s father – a celebrity actor played by Chris Pine – is experiencing his own existential meltdown as he tries to locate his daughter and comically come to terms with his shaky career.

Beneath the fun and quirky tone of the story, the film captures feelings of inadequacy, loneliness and ennui that are widespread in the modern world. It shows how you can zoom in on any given person, regardless of age, and find that existential dread lies close to the surface of their daily actions, ready to flood in at the first crack. The line between crime and victimhood is blurred, and the only thing that emerges in crystal-clear detail is the complexity of being human, of simply existing. This makes it difficult to determine where one’s sympathies should lie, because every character is just trying to find fulfilment – whether in the shape of a university degree, a stellar career or simply a meal of tacos.

The storytelling is never loud: the tension is dosed evenly so that there’s just enough to create some suspense without overriding the emotional dimension with unnecessary drama, which would have been legitimate given the plot’s premise, but too distracting. Cavalli excels at portraying bittersweetness and hitting the perfect spot between hilariousness and profound sadness so that both are expressed effectively, simultaneously. Whimsical in the best way possible, the film is a little gem that paints a touching picture of human frailty, sweetly and unassumingly.