‘Portobello’ Review: HBO’s Tenacious Italian Drama Asks, ‘How Much Stupidity Can One Man Endure?’

In 2026, it’s easy to get overwhelmed by the daily deluge of stupidity. There’s the White House and its malicious megaphone of mindlessness; the generative AI advocates and their pushy, pathetic ploys; the Major League Baseball owners and their dedication to self-destruction. So much of it would be laughable if it wasn’t also ruinous, which makes the whole endeavor that much more exhausting.

The luckiest among us endure these quotidian absurdities indirectly, via news stories and social media feeds, their consequences delayed until sometime in the future. But for the good folks cruelly targeted by ICE and the skilled workers inexcusably pushed out by bots, I can only imagine it feels like being trapped in a vice of vacuity, where an unbearable pressure of preposterous origins grows tighter with every lie accepted as truth, every known fraudster anointed as a power broker, and every imagined reality treated as if it exists within the bounds of reason.

HBO’s “Portobello” elicits the same feeling. Marco Bellocchio‘s six-episode Italian-language drama is a living nightmare of the past that doubles as an agonizing manifestation of the present — a potent reminder that widespread stupidity isn’t confined to a single time or place.

In telling the true story of Enzo Tortura — a beloved Italian TV host (played here by Fabrizio Gifuni) who, in 1985, was baselessly convicted of peddling cocaine for the mafia — “Portobello” plays out chronologically, starting with an hour-plus appreciation of Enzo’s biggest success: the Italian variety program of the same name. Airing on Rai 2 (Radio Television Italy), “Portobello” features segments with inventors, musicians, and a pet parrot. Auditions include a woman who can cry on cue, clowns looking to start a circus for the elderly, and an illusionist specializing in building a house of cards (the latter of which “Portobello” returns to as a blunt, insufficient metaphor for Enzo’s precarious court case).

“What’s wrong with feel-good stories?” Enzo poses to a reporter. “I’m not asking you, [but] I’d like to ask all these snobs, all these people who judge my show as provincial tear-jerking fluff.” The fluff, after all, is selling: Ratings are sky-high, and the network wants to renew “Portobello” for an extended run.

But outside the comforting confines of a TV set, the government is cracking down on crime — or they’re trying to. The Camorra criminal organization is responsible for hundreds of murders across Italy, and the citizens are fed up. Just as they want to escape into a feel-good show every night, they want arrests, convictions, and security every day — the perfect conditions for paranoia to run rampant.

Giovanni Pandico (played by Lino Musella, who HBO subscribers may recognize from “Gomorrah” and “My Brilliant Friend”) sees the dominos start to fall first-hand. Sentenced to multiple life sentences for multiple murders, the low-level Camorra member fancies himself as someone well above his station. He wants nothing more than to be taken seriously, to be respected, to be valued. But he isn’t a serious person, he’s too cruel to respect, and he contributes nothing of value. His claim to fame is serving as a typist for a Camorra boss nicknamed “The Professor,” but facts don’t matter to Giovanni. Not when he can feel like a big man by making up his own stories, his own history, his own reality.

Despite his character’s transparency, Musella’s performance is mesmerizing. He so firmly believes his own lies — and so clearly enjoys telling them — that you can’t wait to see what he’ll come up with next. For the first hour, it’s unclear why “Portobello” is bouncing between Giovanni the prisoner and Enzo the TV star (played by Fabrizio Gifuni). Their stories have zero overlap. How could they? One is a serial killer, the other an Italian Mr. Rogers.

Fabrizio Gifuni in ‘Portobello’Courtesy of HBO

But Giovanni watches “Portobello,” too, and he builds a grudge against Enzo for insults and slights that exist solely in his head. Watching his resentment build is hilarious up until the moment it’s taken seriously. By the time Giovanni gets the chance to sour Enzo’s good name, there’s no question that he’ll seize it. The only question is why anyone would listen, especially when his lies extend to the absurd. “Yes, he’s involved, too,” the man known as “The Lunatic” tells the cops. “Even the parrot’s involved?” they reply. “Affirmative,” he says.

And they believe him. From there, the series largely lives in Enzo’s head, stretching his increasingly infuriated perspective to a nearly intolerable degree. At first, Enzo is merely annoyed. He knows the charges against him aren’t true and believes the lack of evidence will clear his name. But even without proof, the only truth the authorities recognize stems from unfounded accusations, and Enzo is soon embroiled in a scandal where the burden of proof is reversed.

The convicted criminals accusing him of dealing drugs aren’t expected to prove their claims. Instead, Enzo is expected to prove that their claims can’t be true. It would be like if you walked into a police station and said, “This man killed my brother,” and they threw the man in jail without even asking if you had a brother to begin with.

Understandably, Enzo’s irritation morphs into disbelief, his disbelief curdles into anger, and his anger nearly consumes him. Whether it does (or did, given the series is based on Tortura’s memoir) is a question “Portobello” wisely leaves hanging. Just as there’s no obvious escape for Enzo — no mistake he could’ve avoided or opportunity he failed to grasp — there’s no obvious fix for us, either. The only answer to stupidity is enlightenment, and when enlightenment is ignored, someone is bound to suffer.

At times in “Portobello,” it feels like that “someone” is us. The series’ middle stretch contains plenty of redundancies, especially in the courtroom scenes, and witnessing so much needless torment is tough to endure when it exists off-screen, too. Whereas the original variety show was a delightful escape during a difficult time, HBO’s “Portobello” doubles down on that difficulty. Warnings about considering con-men and their bad-faith contentions are important, of course, they’re just also all too familiar.

Grade: B

“Portobello” premieres Friday, February 20 on HBO Max.