Did you know there's an Italian version of "The Invite"? Wilde's comedy is based on the same script that in 2022 had Claudio Bisio dining at the neighbors' house

Did you know that The Invite by Olivia Wilde is a remake? And did you know that a 2022 Italian version exists, starring Claudio Bisio, Vittoria Puccini, Valentina Lodovini, and Vinicio Marchioni?

Paolo Costella was the first to adapt the original work, Sentimental from 2020, directed by Cesc Gay and itself based on the same director's stage play, co-writing the adaptation with Giacomo Ciarrapico for Vicini di casa; they were later replaced for the American version by screenwriters Will McCormack and Rashida Jones (yes, the same Rashida Jones from The Office and Parks and Recreation). But the two films are not the only adaptations: France, South Korea, and Switzerland all have their own versions, demonstrating just how adaptable the story is.

One house and four characters

You don't need much, after all, to make your own The Invite. All you need is a house, four characters, and the right chemistry between them to build a film set entirely within a single location and unfolding within a single unit of time. Each version can then color the screenplay with its own national quirks — locally resonant themes and references, topics or customs and habits that suit each particular adaptation. The heart of the story, however, remains solid and intact: a watertight premise that screenwriters and performers must then shape in their own way, hoping not to squander the brilliant original concept.

Sex as the story's detonator

The inciting incident of The Invite, as in all its adaptations, is a dinner invitation from a married couple with obvious communication problems and overly enthusiastic neighbors who not only have a great sex life but are keen to share that fact with others. Partly because their bedroom exploits can be heard through the walls, and partly because it is precisely the two couples' sex lives that end up on the table, serving as a way in to dig deep into the discomforts each character brings along. The problems of a relationship the film wants to bring to a boil are not reserved solely for the more conservative pair — the couples are not mirror images of each other, but distinct individuals placed face to face so we can examine what, at some point, went wrong.

And then yes, there is sex. Sex as a crowbar to blow the situation apart within the four walls that serve as a stage for the protagonists. Sex as a possibility that holds, however, too many unknowns: it can be regenerating, it can be disappointing, it can be laden with expectations, but it can also spell the end of a relationship. Sex, like many of the themes put into play by The Invite (remake and company), is ultimately something that connects everyone — a passepartout for delving into people's secrets and intimacies, as well as a tantalizing subject to joke about.

Olivia Wilde's rhythmic direction is perfect for The Invite

What Olivia Wilde brings to the table — in her third directorial outing, following her 2019 debut Booksmart and the more than lukewarm reception of Don't Worry Darling in 2022 — is the ability to conduct, like an orchestra leader, the different melodies of her performers: Seth Rogen, Penélope Cruz, Edward Norton, and herself. Wilde's direction gives Jones and McCormack's screenplay rhythm, irony, and tension, never sitting back and letting the title's unexpected twist do all the work, but instead ensuring that what stands out are her actors' performances and the rapport they manage to create. The material is stimulating, but it is how it is directed and performed that adds the extra something which, for instance, the Italian version lacks. It is the synergy between the performers, Wilde's measured direction, and the ability to convey a wide range of human opinions and reactions that produce a merry-go-round you step off just in time before the dizziness sets in.

The invitation is therefore extended to the audience, welcomed into a house that conceals unspoken truths — and will hurl them in everyone's faces for at least one evening. An aquarium from which to observe the characters like goldfish, with their impulses and inhibitions, their desires still burning and others extinguished. It is the genius of a work that can be adapted in as many versions as needed because, anywhere in the world, we could be the ones being portrayed — even if, at the same time, we hope that isn't the case.