REVIEW: ‘In The Hand of Dante’ Is A Noble Failure

It feels strange that In The Hand of Dante has gone mostly unremarked upon. On paper, it sounds like the most interesting. For one, Oscar Isaac plays a dual role in his first lead following Frankenstein. Furthermore, writer-director Julian Schnabel has an excellent track record of making films about art or artists, including Basquiat and the Vincent Van Gogh biopic At Eternity’s Gate, so his making a film whose premise is heavily drawn from Dante Alighieri’s The Divine Comedy sounds like a perfect fit. Throw in two different timelines that clash in color, aspect ratio, and even genre and, well, the ambition is frankly staggering. 

So why then, after its premiere at the 2025 edition of the Venice Film Festival, outside of a couple of notable scathing reviews, has In the Hand of Dante quietly dropped on Netflix with little to no fanfare? The answer is as dry as its streaming release. For all the craftsmanship of the creatives in front of and behind the camera, In the Hand of Dante simply doesn’t come together, although it’s consistently noble in its failure to work. 

Based on the novel of the same name by Nick Tosches, In the Hand of Dante follows two distinct timelines. The first is a sort of crime thriller in which Oscar Isaac portrays a semi-fictionalized version of Nick Tosches himself. Nick is living a rough-and-tumble, morose lifestyle as a writer in New York City when mobster Joe Black (John Malkovich) ropes him into a scheme to steal the original manuscript of Dante’s The Divine Comedy and sell it for profit. Accompanied by hitman Louie (Gerard Butler), Nick’s pursuit of the manuscript leaves a trail of bloodshed behind him that may not wash out.

Despite its craftsmanship, In The Hand of Dante never comes together.

The other plotline is much more straightforward. Simply put, the other half of In the Hand of Dante is a straightforward biopic of Dante Alighieri, played once again by Oscar Isaac, as he tries to finish the last piece of his Divine Comedy, Paradiso. Dante reflects on his relationship with God, poetry, his wife (Gal Gadot), and his mentor, Isaiah (Martin Scorsese), as he seeks out inspiration. 

The Nick Tosches storyline of In the Hand of Dante isn’t exactly accomplished, but it’s frequently thoroughly entertaining. Bathed in a black and white sheen courtesy of cinematographer Roman Vasyanov (Triple Frontier) that matches the cynicism of Nick’s world, you never really know what’s going to happen in his pursuit of the manuscript. Particularly noteworthy are a few mean-spirited explosions of violence that practically startle the viewer into paying attention. 

Nick Tosches isn’t a compelling character as written in the screenplay by Julian Schnabel and Louise Kugelberg due to a persistent inconsistency in his motivations and basically personality traits, but kudos to Oscar Isaac for turning every one of this character’s conflicting tics into something effortlessly watchable.

Oscar Isaac tries to make the most of the material, but his performance can only do so much.

The supporting cast he’s surrounded by is even better. John Malkovich (Opus) is deliciously strange as the mob boss with a penchant for art, whereas Gerard Butler (Greenland 2: Migration) threatens to swallow the movie whole as the lecherous hit man you can’t help watching. Even Al Pacino gets to have a little fun in there somewhere. 

Faring less well are Jason Momoa (Supergirl) and Gal Gadot (Snow White), who feel utterly miscast in their roles as a gun-toting avenger and the object of Nick’s fixation, respectively. Even still, the Nick Tosches storyline feels like Julian Schnabel breaking out of his comfort zone in a fascinating way. Although it’s not bound to become anyone’s favorite crime saga, this half of the film suggests that if this were purely the focus, the sum of In the Hand of Dante could’ve been something.

Instead, the inert sibling to Schnabel’s bizarre crime saga is perhaps the most dry Dante Alighieri biopic imaginable. Oscar Isaac tries. He really does. The same goes for Roman Vasyanov, who captures 14th-century Italy in sumptuous color. Outside of a tender turn from Martin Scorsese in an increasingly less-rare acting role and Gerard Butler devouring even more scenery as the Pope, however, there’s frankly nothing here.

Some notable miscastings make it hard to ignore how uneven the performances are across the board.

There are some crumbs of ideas, like Dante never writing about his wife- again played by a checked-out Gal Gadot- and his struggles with the Church over his writing being seen as blasphemous. Unfortunately, nothing substantial really comes out of this section of the film. It’s a milquetoast, exhausting attempt that, like Dante, reaches desperately for something profound without getting there, which is surprising considering Schnabel’s usual ability to get into the head of the artist. 

The biggest flaw of In the Hand of Dante is that its two halves go together like oil and water. The connection between the two halves is tenuous at best, completely superficial at worst. Multiple timelines with the same actors playing different characters have worked out beautifully in films like Cloud Atlas or The Fountain. In those films, there was a certain rhyme or reason to the inclusion, whereas In the Hand of Dante uses the Divine Comedy manuscript as an excuse to employ this gimmick. 

The two halves of this Dante biopic just never mesh.

In the Hand of Dante does attempt to make sense of the repeated instances of dual casting with a few reveals in the third act. Other than being too little too late, it’s unclear how literally it’s supposed to be taken. Worse yet, it hinges heavily on the audience deeply understanding Dante Alighieri and The Divine Comedy, which it has completely failed to achieve. Nevertheless, it is a fascinating swing that would make one want to revisit the film through a new lens if the journey weren’t so excruciatingly uneven. 

In the Hand of Dante is frustrating. There are a lot of, if not great, interesting directions Julian Schnabel takes that make the inert aspects sting all the more. Undoubtedly, this is a high effort attempt to tell a story across genres, time periods, and color using the same actors. Because of its faults in storytelling, In the Hand of Dante is doomed to be recognized solely by its misguided, though admirable, effort. In the Hand of Dante represents not Inferno, nor Paradiso, but Purgatorio. 

In the Hand of Dante is now streaming, exclusively on Netflix.