Prism (noun)
Definition: a glass object, typically a solid figure whose sides are parallel. Whose two ends are the same in shape and size, which breaks up beams of white light into the colors of the rainbow.
The boy blushed and rejected the nymph’s courtship. But, undaunted, while he bathed in the lake, she embraced him and asked the gods never to be separated from him. Her wish was granted, and from then on, their bodies became one creature. Half man and half woman. Hermaphroditus then made a request to his parents, Hermes and Aphrodite: From today, any male that bathes in the nymph’s waters, will also take on the features of a woman. And so it was. – Marco reading from Le Metamorfosi di Ovido by Ovid
At age 9, Andrea began to question the frigidity of gender in traditional society. It all started with his affinity for longer-sized jerseys, which he began to imagine were flowing gowns as he played dress-up. Soon Andrea found himself captivated by the story of Hermaphroditus. Hermaphroditus represented a version of Andrea he had yet to understand, but he longed for that lake that would combine the two halves of himself. So, to a lake akin to the one in Ovid’s poems, Andrea went called the Garden of Ninfa, or Nymphs. Where he entered, aching for a nymph to embrace him and become one with him, just like Hermaphroditus.
Prisma is a subtle yet charming story written by Ludovico Bessegato and Alice Urciuolo. Marco and Andrea are twins who live in the small town of Latina, Italy. Andrea is going through the self-discovery of being gender fluid (and assumingly pansexual) while feeling a misplaced sense of responsibility for his twin Marco. In contrast, Marco is going through an emotional discovery, figuring out friendship and love. Marco and Andrea both have a crippling codependency with one another which inhibits them from existing as two independent beings. Their identities are linked with one another, confusing their self-exploration. Such as Andrea constantly putting Marco’s needs and wants over his own, coddling him, and overcompensating. In comparison, Marco is complacent, indecisive, and lacking self-confidence and emotional regulation.
Bessegato and Urciuolo (co-writer) use the paradoxical presentations of Marco and Andrea's personalities, yet parallel appearances, to dissect the concept of familial responsibility and otherness. The twins' relationship is utilized to evaluate familial responsibility within the nuclear family household and how often it can be stifling and warped of its intended purpose.
One of the main burdens in the journey to accepting queerness is familial ties and responsibility. When we are adolescents, we often feel we owe those around us a particular life, which can come at a disagreement with our queer gender and sexual identity. In the same vein, because of these differing identities, you feel a sense of otherness in conjunction with your family. You view them as the standard and mold you do not fit into. Some identities under the traditional family unit are framed as deviant and anti-family. The conventional family often described as the “Nuclear Family,” consists of a wife, husband, two kids, a house, and maybe a dog or a cat. Thus on your queer journey, you realize your burgeoning identity goes against the nuclear family. There is often a socialized expectation that those two children will go on to have a spouse of the opposite sex, a house, two kids, and a pet. And thus, the Nuclear Family continues. This sense of responsibility to maintain legacy causes the queer adolescent to go through a feeling of otherness and separation. This is seen in Prisma through the relationship between Andrea and Marco, who come from a nuclear family. As Andrea discovers his gender-fluid identity and pursues a relationship with another boy, he must realize that, unlike his brother, a Nuclear Family may be something he won’t achieve like his parents. And Maybe that is why he tries so hard to “raise” Marco in a sense.
It's obvious that Andrea constantly takes on the role of Marco's caretaker, despite the harm it does to him and his relationship with his twin. Infuriating and emotionally crippling Marco. Depicted within the first few minutes of episode 1, "Red," Marco tries to muster up the courage to talk to his crush, Carola, but chickens out. After leaving the bathroom post injuring his lip attempting to open a beer bottle with his teeth for Marco, Andrea runs into Carola. Andrea introduces himself as Marco to Carola, trying to help his brother court her. This backfires, and Marco is understandably angered. Andrea is over-meddling and treating him as if he was a child. An issue that Marco repeatedly brings up throughout the series. Having both moments be the introduction to the twins is very intentional in setting up both familial responsibilities and otherness. This is heightened by the lack of participation that the parents have in the children's daily lives. Marco wants to be treated as Andrea's equal, not "other" to him. But because of Andrea's responsibility over Marco, he cannot help but reinforce the "otherness" that Marco feels.
This causes them to have a pretty strained relationship, specifically on Andrea’s end. Marco often opens up and relies on Andrea, but feels shut off from him. This can be assumed as Andrea’s defense mechanism against feeling a sense of otherness as he discovers himself and his new queer identity as gender fluid. He evidently cares for his brother Marco and is constantly watching over him. However, he himself is unable to open up to his brother. This is a point I felt both queer and nonqueer older siblings could relate to in nuclear family setups. Lack of parental involvement leads you to be the secondary parent which causes a weird dynamic between you and your sibling(s). This issue is even more complicated when discovering a nonsocially acceptable version of yourself. I must praise Mattia Carrano, who played Andrea and Marco. This came as an astonishment to me. How he could subtly differentiate the differences between his two characters was mind-blowing. He’s a new actor to look out for.
The concept of Prisma originated from a collection of poems by Giovanna Cristina Vivinetto called Dolore Minimo, featured within the show. The collection of poems is about Vivinetto’s journey of discovery and acceptance as a trans woman while dealing with the “other” and more socially acceptable presentation of herself within her twin brother. A theme that's strongly reflected within the show. Two excerpts from the book that we see explicitly said within the show touch on familial responsibility and the sense of otherness. And the first poem by Vivinetto used in Prisma is actually about her twin brother and their relationship.
The first poem, roughly translated: The only brother suddenly felt cut off. From the games they had shared for twenty years? And the secret alliances? And the squabbles? The laughs? Where would they end up, all those things? The trust? Didn't feel betrayed, the brother, simply dazed. What would friends say? At school they would make fun of him, at evenings, and so everywhere. Forever. Suddenly external reality surpassed in importance of what he felt in his heart. Perhaps he had never thought about it. With silence he faced things. With the hardness of goodness denied without a valid reason. He adapted to pain without trying to understand it. But sometimes the brother dreamed those distant childhood games. Those hide and seek with which the two of them filled the time. And every time he jumped on the bed with his heart in his throat because of dreams of his brother he couldn't find anymore. Nowhere.
Only the first two sentences of the poem are heard and narrated by Nina. Nonetheless, the entire poem describes the change and evolution of Andrea and Marco's relationship. The poem is essentially about how Vivinetto’s twin brother felt as if he had lost a brother during Vivinetto’s transition. He felt separated from her, and as if all those times they had spent together had essentially been a dream or a lie, one in which he could no longer find solace. This poem represents the way Marco feels toward Andrea. However, unlike Vivinetto’s brother, Marco has yet to be provided with a reason for the distance that has grown between them. Leading him to lash out, feeling confused and generally betrayed by Andrea. I think it causes an even deeper layer of confusion and anger since Andrea is constantly overinvolved in Marco’s life, he knows his brother inside and out. While Marco can’t the same for Andrea at all.
I do want to point out, that on the flip side, while it isn’t Marco’s fault, I’m sure it doesn’t help Andrea nor Vivinetto to have a constant reminder of what they are supposed to be, how they are supposed to look, nor the life they are supposed to have. So they are both in their own-respect feeling bothered by the other.
The second poem that was read in the show also by Nina, was during the second time we saw Andrea dressing up femininely before a flashback of a younger version of himself doing the same with a long sports jersey. This time, the entire poem was read.
We were among those called against nature. Our existence overturned and distorted the laws of creation. But how could we, luxuriant in our adolescent bodies, be a waste, the flaw of an imperfect nature? They convinced us, they persuaded us to self-deny. We, so young, were forced to rehabilitate our bodies, forced to face our nature and suppress it with another. To tell ourselves that we could be who we didn’t want to be, and weren’t. We, the only innocent beings. The last living beings, us, transplanted into the world of the dead to survive.
Vivinetto is genuinely an extraordinary poet, and the inclusion of this paragraph was an incredible way to introduce why Andrea felt so trapped within the body and social status he was born into. It conveys how trans people from a very young age are taught how being themselves is against nature and should be repressed. They must learn to assimilate into the confines of societal norms to survive in this world. While Vivineto is discovering her trans identity, Andrea is discovering his gender-fluid identity under the trans umbrella, which has an added layer of complication. Being trans is already a concept that society fights tooth and nail. Gender fluidity can be seen as an even harder-to-grasp concept as its fluidity defies the constraints that society attempts to put on labels and identity.
Gender fluidity is not a fixed point, nor can it be contained. It is something that must be tackled on a day-to-day basis. It's sensitive to the day, time, mood, and feelings of a person and their body, like a prism. And while that point may cause others to view it as optional, it isn't. Expressing yourself to your fullest capability should always be the default. Gender fluidity is about learning and getting in touch with your body and emotions, listening to them, and then responding affirmatively. This is a formidable battle to win. And while attempting to win this internal conflict, society throws adversities at you. Exacerbating the sense of otherness and isolating you from what's considered the correct and ideal version of yourself. However, with the help of others, like Andrea with Nina, it'll become more manageable.
“There’s something I don’t get. If you didn’t have to think about others, how would you dress? What would you be like?” - Nina
“I don’t know. Like in the pictures (of him dressed femininely). Or like now. It depends.” - Andrea
“Cool.” - Nina
If only every conversation on gender fluidity could be this easy.
Prisma is a beautiful work that requires one to yearn for self-exploration and learning, grasp all the possibilities, and wander into a better version of yourself. With every new watch, I learn something about myself and the world around me. It is one of the most significant accomplishments a series can achieve for its audience.
I credit Bessegato, the director, for the impeccable and subtle way he portrays this convergence of narration into a classic teen show. I want to emphasize that this is no small feat, especially for queer stories, without it being overdramatized. You’re watching the evolution of these characters, and it feels so natural, relatable, and down to earth. I could see myself in every single one of these characters and my youth within them. He takes a realistic approach both visually and narratively, which helps the story feel more grounded and relatable. While some could say this instead made the story feel slow, I thought it felt more realistic to the pacing of an average teen’s life. With some current teen shows, you would think teens go through way more than they do daily. I’m so glad this was not another overly drugged-out, sex-crazed, or murder mystery show. Just average teens growing, learning to fall in and out of love, and discovering themselves.