Loro uses glimpses or insights of a mixed group of characters to outline a historical moment that has completely ended and, in a very synthetic depiction, could be defined as amoral and decadent, but extraordinarily dynamic.
Loro also aspires to tell the story of some Italians, at the same time both new and ancient. Souls of an imaginary and modern purgatory that establish, on the basis of varying motivations such as ambition, admiration, falling in love, interests and personal advantage, to try to revolve around a sort of paradise in flesh and blood: a man named Silvio Berlusconi.
In my eyes, these Italians represent a contradiction: they are predictable but indecipherable.  A contradiction that is a mystery. Our own mystery that the film tries to deal with without making judgments.  Moved only by a desire to understand, and adopting a tone that is rightly considered revolutionary today. A tone of tenderness.
But here comes another Italian. Silvio Berlusconi. As I imagined him.
The story of the man, first of all, and only marginally of the politician.
One could object that much is known not only of the politician, but also of the man.