The Designated Victim

In the sleek world of 1970s Italian advertising, Stefano Augenti commands every boardroom with the confidence of a rising star, yet his personal life unravels behind closed doors. His marriage to the aristocratic socialite Luisa Augenti is a battlefield of resentment, and an illicit romance with the enigmatic French expatriate Fabienne Bélanger only deepens the fissures. The glossy veneer of campaigns and high‑society gatherings cannot mask the mounting pressure of a man caught between ambition and emptiness, setting a tone that oscillates between stylish sophistication and simmering dread.

A chance encounter on a fog‑laden canal introduces Count Matteo Tiepolo, an eccentric noble whose free‑spirited demeanor masks a cryptic philosophy of destiny. Their connection is immediate and unsettling—two strangers whose lives intersect at the crossroads of privilege and desperation. As their conversations drift from casual banter to the deeper shadows of their respective woes, the count’s unsettling charm begins to lure Stefano into a realm where friendship blurs with a dangerous intrigue. The film’s atmosphere, painted with the muted gold of Venetian evenings and the buzzing neon of ad agencies, amplifies the sense that something unseen is being negotiated beneath the polite veneer.

Against this backdrop, the two men contemplate a chilling bargain: a pact that promises to free them from the very ties that bind their lives. The proposal is a haunting blend of aristocratic decadence and corporate ruthlessness, hinting at a moral abyss that both characters teeter on the edge of. This uneasy alliance creates a tense psychological chess game, where every glance and whispered promise carries the weight of potential ruin. The story thrives on mood—an intoxicating mix of elegance, paranoia, and the unsettling feeling that destiny may be a contract waiting to be signed.

Last Updated: December 04, 2025 at 23:08