Five years after his masterpiece, Miracolo a Milano – Miracle in Milan (1951), director Vittorio De Sica with screenwriter Cesare Zavattini, return to a familiar neorealist theme – social troubles of a young couple, played by unprofessional actors, facing a housing problem during Italy’s economic boom.

The film opens with footage of construction workers at a building site working hard, which reminded me of similar labor themes director Ermanno Olmi dealt with early in his career.

The story tells the hardships of a newlywed couple finding a house; they are rejected from their overcrowded parents’ home, check a noisy, yet overpriced apartment by the railroad, and finally, resort to their last solution. Summing up the help of his construction workers, Natale, Luisa’s husband, find an empty lot by a railroad and overnight build a small cabin, leveraging a rule that if a dwelling has a door and a roof, the dweller cannot be evicted.

Beyond the ironic narrative – a construction worker who builds modern high-rise homes for others is struggling to find a home for himself – the film opens a wide visual angle that illustrates the immense force of Italy’s economic boom with construction sites everywhere. Yet, not all profited from it.

I liked the heartwarming soundtrack of Alessandro Cicognini that tightly hugs the narrative as the protagonists face one conflict after another, but still leaves room for hope. Cicognini’s music style is described as late-romantic and was characterized by immediacy and catchiness.

Celebrating cafePellicola.com’s 10-year anniversary I figured this film has many of the attributes of Italian cinema that caught my fascination – a great example of Italian visual storytelling craftsmanship that still excites, moves and engages all senses.

In this post, I am not going to discuss a particular film but share with you a very special project I came across the other day.

I’d like to give the discovery credit to my favorite Twitter hashtags – we all have our own lists – that keep me abreast about the greatest and latest news in Italian cinema. In my list, you will find the typical suspects of Italian filmmakers, film fests, distribution companies and special influencers – all focusing on the business of cinema, and primarily – the directors and stars that are front and center.

That’s why I was very enthralled to come across an exciting research project called “Italian Cinema Audiences” that takes the focus away from the stars and directors – but tracing the imprints of cinema-going experience through the eyes of non-expert audiences who experienced the films first hand in Italy of the 40s-50s.

Now that’s innovative! The project is led by Daniela Treveri Gennari (Oxford Brookes University), Catherine O’Rawe (University of Bristol) and Danielle Hipkins (University of Exeter), and funded by the Arts and Humanities Research Council (AHRC).

This unique angle resonated with me on several levels. First, audiences’ perspectives are typically ignored. In the US, you may have heard about major studios running focus groups before a movie release to gauge success, weekend box office results, or occasional interviews of viewers’ impressions as they leave the theater. In large, audiences are treated as a faceless amalgam of data.

And just to balance the picture, with the emergence of social media there is also a counter trend that democratizes the voice of audiences in shaping a buzz around released films – including personal movie blogs like this one that provide an open mic for movie fans to express their views.

That’s why I think Italian Cinema Audiences is important. Through a myriad of video interviews it captures first-hand testimonials of audiences who experienced cinema growing up in Italy’s 40s and 50s – real stories by real people, recreating maps of their movie theaters, common norms of the time (e.g., women did not go alone to the movies), and entertainment habits.

Second, I like peeking into the perspective of non-expert audiences. It reminds me of Ermanno Olmi’s comments about the importance of facial expressions in his 1962 film Il Posto – The Job. Committed to the Neorealism genre, he preferred working with non-professional actors in their genuine environment – the only way to extract the most authentic acting, as they played themselves.

Third, I liked that the video interviews revealed a clear preference for American films over Italian ones during the 40s–50s. One lady, Natalia, said that at the time she didn’t like Neorealism much, as it created bad publicity about Italy by focusing on poverty and social injustice – later she learned to appreciate these films’ importance.

I would love to see this research turned into a documentary that frames these authentic video interviews within historic footage – news media and films of the era – juxtaposing actual historical facts against time-capsule human stories of the people who lived through them.

To hop on this time machine, you can start by watching the available video interviews (all in Italian – hopefully English subtitles will be added). More interviews will be released later this year, and I plan to feature a few of the most interesting testimonials here and on our social networks. Stay tuned!

Right from the opening scene where you see the village women all veiled in black waiting patiently outside the mine for their husbands who refuse to come up to avoid the mine closing – you see direct similarities with another Neorealism harbinger – Visconti’s 1948 La terra trema (The Earth Trembles). Both films offer a great view into the Italian neorealism genre marked by social and economic hardships, use of non-professional actors and scenes shot on location vs. the studio.

The film is based on Nino Di Maria’s novel Cuori negli abissi and was co-written by Federico Fellini and Tullio Pinelli – great evidence of Fellini’s first steps in cinema.

What I liked about the film is the twist in Pietro Germi’s style, which typically focuses on plots set in Sicily – see his seminal works Divorce, Italian Style (1961) and Seduced and Abandoned (1963). Here, Germi starts the story in Capodarso, Sicily but follows the villagers on their journey to find a better life outside Sicily, uprooting them into unfamiliar locales – the streets of Rome, the snowy French Alps – creating unlikely combinations that make you think about what unites vs. divides people.

Throughout the film you’ll find the villagers singing as a ready respite from despair and the ambiguity of their future – their old village sing-along unites them and lifts their spirits immediately.

Germi uses facial expressions to convey a variety of emotions – from being at a loss and out of place in the big city, to anger at injustices, awe at new places, and finally the glimpse of hope in the twinkle of a boy’s smile when stopped by French police.

The film boasts a remarkable performance by Raf Valone as Saro, the villagers’ leader in their hope expedition, and the debut performance of Elena Varzi as Barbara.

The great composer Carlo Rustichelli blends village songs and high-note violins to charge scenes like the one where the exhausted villagers are stopped by French police on the Alps – rapid facial interplay between the policemen and the tired children moves from suspicion and disbelief to remorse at the sight of a boy’s smile, the embodiment of hope.

The film won major awards at the 1st Berlin International Film Festival and the 1951 Cannes Film Festival – Palme d’Or.

With 2015 coming upon us, I figured there is nothing like rewinding the clock back to this 1963 quaint cinematic gem to usher in the New Year.

Once upon a time there were 4 taxi drivers… This charming film brings four short films – urban fables, if you will – that each capture a different human aspect of taxi driver life.

Long before reality TV recognized the vantage point taxi drivers have on the stream of life and people, director Giorgio Bianchi – who started his career as an actor in the silent movie era of 1929 – delivers four poignant stories that offer another facet of the Italian comedy (Commedia all’italiana) genre.

The first episode, “Lo sposo” (The Groom), features the street-smart Filomena (Didi Perego) driving Baldassarre Boldrini (Gino Bramieri), a groom on his way to his wedding – his mammone (mummy’s boy) demeanor contrasted with her sharp-tongued, assertive style creates ample funny moments.

The second, “Un’opera buona” (Nice Piece of Work), turns to seduction, sin and honor around a sweaty Neapolitan driver (the great Peppino De Filippo as Pasquale Scognamillo) and his client, a beautiful nun (Graziella Granata).

The third, “Caccia al tesoro” (The Treasure Hunt), follows Pomilio Barone (Erminio Macario) driving a tipsy high-society client around Torino as part of a treasure hunt game – the driver’s gradual shift from enabler to participant is emotionally charged.

The final episode, “L’uomo in blu” (The Man in Blue), stars the giant Aldo Fabrizi as Sor Gigi, the taxi driver whose cab an escaping criminal (Gianrico Tedeschi) happens to board.

All four episodes show how a taxicab is a prime setting for growing conflicts and unlikely combinations that drive the comic stories forward.

From all of us at cafe Pellicola, we wish you an epic 2015 with lots of new movies to discover and appreciate.

We hosted a live conversation (in English) with Luca Vullo, a versatile filmmaker who has made several documentaries, short films, music videos and commercials, winners of prizes at international festivals. Luca shared insights about his latest documentary “The Voice of the Body” – a joyful and instructive perspective on the peculiar code of Italian hand gestures.

These days I have roughly an hour commute time between 8AM-9AM, so I find myself spending the time listening to Italian live radio broadcast (thank you TuneIn Radio app). This is one of the blessings of broadband streaming; your views and surroundings are rooted in the US, but your real-time soundtrack is coming from elsewhere – in this case, Italy.

My journey starts at RAI 3 with their informative Wiki Radio – half hour dedicated to one topic around culture, history, politics etc. – I call it “My General Education on Wheels.” Then I switch to RAI 1 where they typically have interviews with listeners around a specific news topic. Last week’s broadcast was dedicated to the problem of illegal immigrants from Africa that hit Sicilian Aeolian Islands, including interviews from Mineo’s refugee camp.

In this film Roman director Emanuele Crialese goes back to his favorite set location – Sicily (see 2002 Respiro and 2006 Nuovomondo) – and with a post-Neorealism nod puts a giant, yet touching mirror against the problem of illegal immigrants in Sicily, and for that matter elsewhere in the world. Close up of happy tourists on boat busy having fun.

The film shot on Linosa and Aggrigento in Sicily, tells the story of a humble family that tries to make a living from a dying trade – fishing, led by Ernesto (Mimmo Cuticchio), the grandfather representing old mores. Ernesto is aided by his naïf and easy-to-ridicule grandson, Filippo (Filippo Pucillo) on their fishing trips. You may remember him from 2002 Respiro. His mother, Giulietta (Donatella Finocchiaro), after the death of her husband, Pietro, wishes Filippo a better life outside the island. She occasionally comments on his heavy Sicilian dialect and the fact that he needs to speak proper Italian. Distant view of desparate illegal immigrants on boat, anxiously crying for help.

Cinematographer Fabio Cianchetti opens the film with series of close-up underwater visuals of casting the fishing net I found very symbolic - as if to say, here is another man’s encroachment into nature in order to make an artificial order by capturing idly swimming fish. The camera then goes up above the water to portray Filippo and Ernesto on their beat-up fishing boat working hard to make a living.

Above water, there is another reality where man is also trying to make another type order. However, this time playing “the fish” are illegal immigrants that Ernesto and Filippo come across in the middle of the ocean. Since on Linosa fishermen are punished for helping illegal immigrants, their first instinct when spotting the illegal boat is to notify the coastguard, which advises them to stay at bay and wait for their arrival. But what happens next is that some immigrants jump their ship and swim towards the fishermen’s boat for salvation.

In my opinion, this is the primary scene that illustrates the entire film’s dilemma: abide by the law of the land and not help the immigrants or abide by what Ernesto call “The Law of the Seas,” which says never leave a man stranded in the water, which represents a core human solidarity. Ernesto chooses the latter.

From that point forward, the plot provides a close-up look at pregnant Sara (played by non-professional Ethiopian refugee Timnit T.) and her son – rescued by Ernesto and Filippo. Crialese offers a unique juxtaposition of the undercover attempts of the Pucillo’s family to help Sara, living in the rundown garage, while next door tourists from the North are vacationing.

In other words, two groups of external visitors to the island, immigrants that force their way in and present a threat to local business, whereas tourists that come to enjoy the pristine beaches and offer a financial breathing for islanders during the summer months.

How can you reconcile the natural instinct to help your fellow man, when the law states the opposite? is the constant conflict that drives the story forward. In this case, both islanders, tourists and immigrants – are all thrown into an unpredictable reality where ironically “terraferma” (firm land) is always there, yet highly elusive.

It’s been something we wanted to do for a while now. You know that feeling, your passion, technology and great people you meet along the way that make it possible to do great things. Cafe Pellicola Live is such initiative. We are happy to invite you to join our monthly live video hangouts as we "virtually" meet for coffee with special guests: ranging from filmmakers, festivals' artistic directors to Italian Studies cinema scholars.

Our first cafePellicola Live hangout was on 8/11/14 where we hosted a live conversation with our good friend Professor Pasquale Verdicchio, Italian and Comparative Literature at University of California, San Diego. Professor Verdicchio shared his perspectives about Italian cinema from the past - growing up in Napels during the 50’s-60's - to current artistic trends and challenges.

You can watch replay here

It’s that time of the year, an absolute treat. I am obviously talking about the annual Italian Cinema festival, Open Roads, that takes place every June at Lincoln Film Center. It’s a rare opportunity to get access to some of the freshest voices in Italian cinema with veteran as well as new surprises. This year, unfortunately, I was not able to attend all the films I had planned, part of the reason is that some were scheduled midweek during business hours and that was tough – a note for organizers.

Official Trailer

That said, I was grateful to catch Emma Dante’s Via Castellana Bandiera – A Street in Palermo, which was a pure delight. This is Dante’s debut film where she plays triple role of writer, director and main protagonist. You can’t expect a tighter artistic package from wordsmithing to actual role building. And this is no accident, Dante, a native of Sicily’s Catania, although educated up north, has a rich theatrical background having formed her theatrical company Sud Costa Occidentale – with a long list of theatrical successes.

So the good ol’ rule of thumb, write about what you know, is pretty much mirrored in this film plot. Dante offers a unique a semi-autobiographical window, into Rosa (played by herself) and her partner Clara (Alba Rohrwacher) that returned to Palermo for a wedding after being shunned by her family.

Samira (Elena Cotta) in a symbolic visual, mourning on her daughter's grave, flanked by stray dogs resting in unused graves.

The film takes a unique photographic strategy that attempts to place viewers as if they are part of the reality. The film opens with the camera going up and down below sea level – as if the audience is this huge body of divers that are peeking at the small fisherman boat to introduce the Calafiore men, working hard at sea. Then this approach continues with the rough shots of Rosa and Clara driving through the narrow streets of Palermo, looking for the right turn and the camera as if affixed to their heads, wherever they look at the camera immediately responds. A similar artistic approach you may recall from Abbas Kiarostami's films where entire plots take place inside cars. Lots of closeups are also used when introducing us to Samira (Elena Cotta) an old Albanian, with an iron will. The cemetery episode with her care to stray dogs roaming the place, is very poignant. Generational showdown fed by different reasons.

The storyline focuses on a trivial, turned into philosophical generational clash – when Rosa and Clara meet the Calafiore family in a narrow street – car against car – with both Samira and Rosa not willing to budge for the other to pass through. Smira harnesses stubbornness against the maltreatment of the Clafiore family led by the grotesque portrayal of Saro Calafiore (Renato Malfatti) who married her daughter who is now dead. Whereas Rosa builds her counter bullheadedness, by metaphorically seeing Samira as her conservative Sicilian family that had deserted her.

The showdown continues on and in the process reveals colorful Sicilian characters (non-professional actors), drivers that got stuck behind Clara and Samira’s cars and different levels of losing their tempers, the local neighbors that provide advice to each side. One neighbor reveals the crude side the Sicilian way of life – all houses are number 5 with non-existent municipal control. You can also find some artistic tributes to classic Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns – when there is the rapid eyes closeup exchange between Rosa and Samira to build up the growing tension of who will break down first. The whole neighborhood dash: vanity in disguise of caring.

The film has many moments of pure visual gems, like when Samira comes to pick up the Clafiore from the beach and her image is looming ominously up the hill, looking down at Saro on the beach. The best scene in my opinion is the final scene (without revealing too much), where all the neighbors are filmed running towards the camera. It’s a fantastic study of age, gender and what constitutes a local community coming together not by way of helping the other, but by raw curiosity to a neighbor’s dismal fate. And finally three doves that walk around business as usual, undisturbed by the drama people have apparently cooked around them…

Italian Cinema London has  launched today a week-long online festival dedicated to Italian documentaries, aptly called ItalianDocsOnline.  It's a quite innovative program that exposes audiences around the world with some of the latest Italian documentaries. And what's more it's free with audience voting to add a bit of a sizzle to the event. Holly, one of the ghosts of San Berillo - an authentic study of timeworn face and stone; form and function.

I started my binge watching with Edoardo Morabito's i fantasmi di San Berillo - The Ghosts of San Berillo, Winner of the 'Italiana doc' section at Turin Film Festival last November. The film tells the story of San Berillo the most impoverished neighborhood in Catania, Sicily that underwent two waves of prostitution clean-ups (1958, and 2000). That said, a few morsels of the old neighborhood still remain standing today.

Morabito through a tapestry of historical footage, emotionally charging interviews with current residents, old tenants, the old buildings and alleys - tells a genuine story of how time changes architecture, people, memories - and vice versa. The film is beautifully narrated by actress Donatella Finocchiaro, a native of Catania, that in some interview I caught confesses the story of San Berillo is mostly unknown to people of her generation today and the "surviving ghosts" of this ghetto, although operating underground - are still alive and have quite a story to tell.

The decrypt state of the buildings in some scenes is equated to the ravished, wrinkled faces of its old inhabitants who went through some horrible stories working at probably one of the biggest red light districts in the Mediterranean. I especially liked the old tenant that revisits his old stomping grounds with persistent tenacity to hang-on to evidence of the old neighborhood ways, smells and people. So much that at some point he's trying to eject a few stones from a crumpling building as if it was a memento from the fall of the Berlin Wall.

Watching the film it felt as if form and function, reality and fantasy are in an eternal interplay of symbiotic influences.

In this classic Italian comedy director Antonio Pietrangeli juxtaposes extra indulgence with absurdity as key ingredients that drive rich couple from northern city Brescia to completely lose it.  Claudia Cardinale and Ugo Tognazzi.

The husband, Andrea Artusi, played by Ugo Tognazzi is the owner of a hat factory. He has a beautiful young wife, Maria Grazia, casted with Claudia Cardinale at her best. The couple is surrounded with bored and rich friends like them, who constantly talk about adultery (L'adulterio) as if it was the local sport.

Andrea who is very loyal to Maria Grazia decides to test the waters and finds out how easy it is to have a love affair. It’s funny to see the detailed instructions his lover leaves for him to coordinate their private meeting in a nearby hotel.

You would think that would keep Andrea busy for a while, but he quickly gets bored with this clandestine relationship and turns the situation on its head. If it’s that easy to have an outside marital relationship for him, what about his gorgeous wife Maria Grazia? From here things start to snowball downwards as Andrea becomes super jealous of his wife. He spies on her using a special phone device, camps out in his backyard armed with goggles, have an employee following her, and others tactics.

Full movie

I like the film because through a comic flair it succeeds in showing you several truths: enough is never enough, a bit of one-sided chauvinistic theme where Andrea is ok with him having a love affair, but lose his mind over doubting his wife, and lastly this Pirandellian undercurrent that blends illusion with reality in Andrea’s mind.

On top of it, the film boasts a very impressive cast beyond Ugo Tognazzi and the amazing Claudia Cardinalle, you’ll find young Gian Maria Volonté (1:12:49), Salvo Randone (1:52:46) and a glimpse of Lando Buzzanca casted as the porter at the Artusi residence (1:20:38).

The film starts and ends with the rhythmic song La notte che, sung by Jimmy Fontana. You’d also appreciate the classic soundtrack by the fantastic Armando Trovajoli that alternates between light swingy organ touches illustrating La dolce vita (the good life) Andreal leads, and this nagging percussion theme that represents Andrea’s persistent worries about wife.

And inline with the film’s message:

This movie is a portrait of the lifestyle and human attitude that is typical of Roman society: decadent, indolent and insolent - if you allow me to express these words also in English.

Sorrentino gives us fantastic, charming, captivating photographs of Rome. From the sparkling colors of Jep’s funkiest parties, to the shaded tones of the river and the city’s architecture during his solitary walks at late dawns, to the warm bright light of its villas and parks, to the deep darkness of ancient temples.

This movie has no specific plot, if you are looking for one. This movie unrolls scenes of roman life, through thoughts, images, characters, looks, emotions, surprises, memories, dreams and hopes, failures and disappointment, laughs and cries, that only the smartness of Jep Gambardella (main character interpreted by an extraordinary Toni Servillo) can explain.

Jep Gambardella is celebrating his 65th birthday with a party. He is a journalist who wrote his first very successful but only book long time ago. The question was “what do you like the most? To this question all my friends would answer ‘the pussy’, instead my answer was ‘ the smell of the house of old people’.. from this I knew I was destined to sensitivity”. Jep is our storyteller, the one able to lead us to give a sense to all this apparent nonsense, revealing THE GREAT BEAUTY of being human.

One of my favorite delights, as you could imagine, is attending film festivals, preferably in Italy. And when I have a chance load up with ton of books. I try to buy either the latest Italian bestsellers or books about some of my favorite Italian directors.

Last year I attended Rome International Film Festival, and out of that trip I found this book titled Gli anni edison - i volti e le mani (The Faces and Hands) by Benedetta Tobagi. It’s part of a series where each book is dedicated to a specific director with attached DVD of rare footage. This book is dedicated to Ermanno Olmiwith some great footage of his early documentary work at EdisonVolta - more about this book in a separate post. Promise!

The reason for this long intro, is the following quote by Olmi that I find relevant to this film:

Il cinema e’ un modo per rapportarsi al mondo. O usi il cinema per fare diventare il realta una favola o usi il cinema per convivere con la realta.

Cinema is a vehicle to reference the world. You either use cinema for turning reality into a fairy tale or you use cinema for acknowledging reality.

In his second feature film, director Andrea Molaioli, use the second role Olmi is talking about regarding cinema’s responsibility to reflect actual events that impacted many. The film is largely inspired by one of the darkest chapters in Italian economy in the 21st century – the financial crisis of multinational Italian dairy and food corporation, crac Parmalat. Toni Servillio, as the relentless CFO Ernesto Botta, deep in work, manning the numbers in his dark office.

If you liked Toni Servillio in Paolo Sorrentino’s La grande bellezza - The Great Beauty, then this film will make you appreciate his performance range even more. Servillio provides a fantastic performance of a cold, arrogant and super loyal CFO, Ernesto Botta, that will do anything – including finally fudging numbers - to save the future of Leda – this fictional dairy company. Remo Girone plays the old style CEO Amanzio Rastelli that blindly trusts Botta’s flawed judgment.

This out of control business strategy starts by CEO Rastelli refusing to let go of his losing investments like a favorite soccer team, his insistence on keeping his 51% majority control, or his investment in a losing travel company, where he places his granddaughter Laura Aliprandi (Sarah Felberbaum). The international backers want to know why all these investments do not yield a profit. Rastelli refuses to reveal the true status of the growing debts and opting for series of fraudulent acts. The film's poster. I especially liked the opening tag line: "se i soldi non ci sono, inventiamoceli - if we don't have the numbers, let's invent them"

The film’s spiraling down plot provides an eloquent, yet grim view of modern financial operations, where real goods and services provide a realistic financial value (i.e., you sell massive amount of yogurt and get its worth plus profit). However, as we all know companies don’t stop there and leverage that initial value in the present to further trade in parallel future financial fantasy pyramids, that sometimes collapse and not only affect an entire company and its employees, but also hundreds of thousands of individual investors who in Parmalat’s case, lost their money and would never recover it. On the radical end of this view, you can include some of today’s latest hot Internet darlings that never made a dime, but are valued in the billions.

The official trailer

A similar political cinema, you can trace back to the classic work of director Francesco Rosi. In this film, I particularly see artistic nods to Le Mani Sulla Città - Hands over the City – (Francesco Rosi – 1963).

The film distills its pessimistic assessment with the following ending statement:

Negli ultimi anni il dominio della finanza sull’economia reale ha prodotto vere e proprie truffe a danno dei risprarmiatori.

Nonostante glie allarmi ed i numerosi casi di crac che hanno investito importanti societa in tutto il mondo, ad oggi il valori dei prodotti finanziari presenti sui mercati e almeno dieci volte superiore a quello dei beni e dei servizi reali.

In recent years the supremacy of finance over the actual economy has resulted in serious fraud against savers.

Despite warnings and numerous financial crashes involving major companies around the world, the value of financial packages in the marketplace today is at least ten times superior to that goods and services.

I saw this charming Italian comedy the other night on YouTube projected on my big screen and tried to imagine some of the thoughts that ran through audiences' minds who saw it for the first time in Italian movie theaters in the early 60's.

Complete film

I guess it reminded me of that startup findery.com I read about, where people leave their notes attached to physical places around the world. So a place, in this case a movie, could potentially carry past mental mementos of all people that experienced it before you. And when you marry physical with digital worlds you get to experience a much deeper view that elegantly overcomes time and space. The result is a blend of your personal impressions with others'. In digital business it's called innovation.

Going back to the film, I'd say audiences at the time might have recalled that dramatic chapter in Italian history and could have correlated themes in this movie with similar political coverups of their day, concluding there's nothing new under the sun. This is in fact, the consistent recipe of all films in the Comedia all'italiana (Italian comedy) genre; they make you laugh of the comic situations, and by sending bitter criticism darts at current affairs, thus making audience relate on dual layers.

The film tells the story of Omero Battifiori, played skillfully by the great Nino Manfredi, an insurance broker who visits a small town in Puglia during the early 30's fascist years. The authorities who had received a telegram that a high rank fascist party inspector is about to arrive from Rome, mistakenly thinks Omero is that top official. This misunderstanding is the premise for a comedy of errors that ensues where the town authorities, led by mayor Salvatore Acquamano (Nino Cervi) are turning the city upside down to show their good side to Omero, while concealing their mismanagement failures.

Omero Battifiori (Nino Manfredi) in a scenic ride with the mayor's daughter Elvira Acquamano (Michèle Mercier) and the Trulli houses in the background (mouse over image to learn more)

I liked some of the archival footage featuring Mussolini's in various public stunts, which helped cement the erratic socio-political charged atmosphere that lended itself to constant fellow suspicion and blind obedience. Exception to this rule, is the portrayal of the anti-fascist Dr. De Vincenzi, played by reticent, yet the tell-it-as-it is Salvo Randone. You may remember him from Francesco Rosi's 1963 masterpiece Hands over the City – Le Mani Sulla Città.

I guess that's what so genuine in cinema, you get to see actors/actresses you saw in other films and that thread of familiarity helps build their performance range in your head. In most cases, it could be a consistent typecast that persists (think Tiberio Murgia), in other cases it's a complete atypical casting or drastic marginality that may reflects simply an evolution stage in acting career. For me that moment was the final scene when tipsy Omero spills the beans on his identity. In the crowd there was a face of an actor who doesn't have any lines who simply watches on, but in Alessandro Blasetti's 1954 film, 8 years prior, he played a police commissioner with dominant presence. This is especially true when you watch movies from a specific cinematic period, say early 60's. There is that finite bank of actors that is being utilized over and over until they feel like old friends, even under different roles. Omero Battifiori (Nino Manfredi) strolling with Dr. De Vincenzi (Salvo Randone) against a panoramic view of the village. Film was shot in Sassi di Matera and Ostuni in Puglia.

There are some nice outdoors scenes showcasing the famous Truli houses in Puglia and panoramic shots of a local village where Omero meets the poor locals that confronted him with their misfortunes. That scene reminded me a later collaboration between Ettore Scola (a scriptwriter in this film), and Nino Manfredi - the 1976 Ugly, Dirty and Bad (Brutti, sporchi e cattivi), a grotesque story about a poor family in a shanty town in outskirts of Rome. Could it be that the creative seed was planted here? Maybe.

In summary, you can watch the film right here (no English subs, though) and get a glimpse of Nino Manfredi's early career performance, some archival footage, small town hypocrisy during fascist era, the quaint Truli houses, and another great soundtrack from composer Pierro Piccioni.

Buona visione!

The magic of cinema as you know can sometimes inspire you to tell your own stories. Here is a short story I wrote a few years ago as a tribute, a tad futuristic, to a particular masterpiece by director Alberto Lattuada. Can you guess the film?

Grahame was riding the bus looking aimlessly out the window. It was almost dusk. The fleeting lights of the zooming cars below reminded him of an old film he saw the other night, where the protagonist was encased in a wooden box flown to New York, terrified he was staring through the cracks and seeing moving thin light streaks indicating movement into the unknown.

The bus was full of people, weary after a long workday, or so it seems. He took out his cellphone and kept clicking Rome. A red blinking response came back glaring at him:

ITALIAN REPUBLIC WIRELESS BORDERS CONTROL Rome is currently booked solid for the next 2 hours. * Standby Alert System is now active *

The bus reached the end of the tour in a transportation theme park of some centuries ago. He got off the bus, Claudia was waiting on the platform.

“How was it?” She asked all smiles. “Pretty cool considering I had more time to think about our plan for tonight. Ready to go?” “Can’t wait” She replied. “Good. However, we may need to wait a while for Rome, unless you prefer going somewhere else like say Sydney which is available?” He asked. “I’d rather not” she replied decisively. “We have already planned this and besides, tonight should be special.” “Fair enough” he said as his cellphone all of a sudden started chirping. He quickly glanced at it and his face immediately lit up with a green glow emanating from the device display:

ITALIAN REPUBLIC   WIRELESS BORDERS CONTROL Standby Alert System says: 2 spots are now available in Rome Accept?

“You won’t believe this! We can actually go now!” Ready? Let’s do it! She concurred. Here we go! He announced gingerly clicking the Accept button and with one hand holding Claudia’s hand.

A purple burst of light engulfed them both and a moment later they were already strolling in Campo di Fiori on their way to celebrate their one-year anniversary at Nino’s - they received a recommendation from Jason, Grahame’s friend at work: “Nino’s is the best, especially when the whole world and his sister are putting Rome at full capacity pretty much 24/7, you gotta know where to go if you luck up on spots. The food is great and the waiters are kind.”

The evening was softly idling away and three hours and two gellati later they were back home, comfortably tucked in their bed, appreciating their good fortunes and trying to imagine traveling by bus. “I guess you eventually get there,” Grahame pondered. “Yep, but we all know the destination is much more interesting than the long way to get there…” Confirmed Claudia before closing her eyes pleasantly relaxed.

It's funny sometimes when you watch a film that you like and then come across another one done couple of years later with same theme and even same actors. For those of you who follow my occasional cinematic thoughts, you'll find this film very similar to Domenica d’agosto – Sunday in August (Luciano Emmer -1949), both represent typical movies of Commedia all'italiana genre of early 50's-60's.

The premise is the same: the adventures of one family on a Roman Ostia beach. In this case, directed and starred by Aldo Fabrizi – one of Italy's great actors known for his comic and dramatic roles (most notable Roma città aperta - Rome Open City – Roberto Rossellini – 1949).

The film starts with several comic scenes around the office of a vegetable company (you may say The Office Italian version) to stage the characters including one of my favorite Peppino De Filippo. Office workers make plans to get discount travel to the beach – each with own agenda.

Just as in Emmer's film, here crowds, pushing and pulling also play key role in establishing the chaos environment to showcase the physical comedy, absurd, and even slapstick moments. I especially liked the boarding of the bus scene (00:25). The family Passaguai on the beach, with the son guarding the watermelon.

The plot weaves together wide range of trouble the family Passaguai (which ironically means “trouble-passing”) comes across, chief among which is the series of encounters with “the watermelon guy” played hilariously by Luigi Pavese. No matter what he does to protect his watermelon – a staple beach snack – every encounter with the family Passaguai results in a ruined watermelon. Luigi Pavese as the "Watermelon Guy" with another determined pose before another watermelon accident.

This film is part of a trilogy directed by Fabrizi including “La famiglia Passaguai fa fortuna” and later with “Papà diventa mamma” where the comic premise is based on replacing the roles of Aldo Fabrizi as the husband with those of his wife, played by Ave Ninchi.

In short, very light humor film that features another authentic testimonial of a Roman summer in early 50's with loads of emotional extremes, miscommunications, and comedy of errors.

And yes, this film is also part of Italy's top 100 cinematic heritage list.

It's August in Rome and it seems like the whole town has a single mission – go to the beach! You can watch this charming, time-capsule of a movie below (76 minutes, no English subtitles, though).

Full film

In this light comedy, categorized under “Pink Neorealism," precursor to later Italian comedy genre (considering that just a year earlier in 1948 Vittorio di Sica released the emblematic Neorealistic film Bicycle Thieves featuring real existential needs!) - director Luciano Emmer provides a much lighter view of post-WWII Italian society. The plot leverages what I call “channel-zapping” storytelling technique, where four distinct stories are switched back and forth: the cyclists, the big common family, the rich folks and the humble couple. Four stories for which apparently only two are connected, vividly paint a lively, and quiet authentic picture of summer pastime habits of Romans in the late 1940's.

Young Anna Baldini approached by the local boys to join the dance (see hand tactic)

The film was shot in Rome specifically Porta Cavalleggeri, park of Colle Oppio, the Testaccio, Mattatoio and the Aostia train stations and beach. What strikes me the most is the consistent element of crowds everywhere, with people pushing and pulling their way on roads, train station, entrance to the beach and finally when settled down on the beach. And as such I couldn't help thinking of those classic Coney Island crowded beach pictures or the crowded pool scene in Boccaccio ’70: Renzo e Luciana (Mario Monicelli – 1962). The film boasts a wide range of actors early in their career, some I recognized from other memorable films like Mario Vitale who played the tough husband of Ingrid Bergman in Stromboli – Stromboli, Terra di Dio (Roberto Rossellini – 1950), young Franco Interlenghi from Sciuscià - Shoeshine (Vittorio De Sica – 1946), Massimo Serato that married Anna Mgnani for a few years and played in La signora delle camelie (Carmine Gallone - 1947), Emilio Cigoli that in this film plays somewhat similar role to his earlier role in I bambini ci guardano - The Children are Watchin Us – (Vittorio De Sica – 1944), and Marcello Mastroianni that needs no introduction, which in this film was dubbed by no one else but Alberto Sordi. There were also a few cinematic debuts for Elvy Lissiak that kicked off her long career, Anna di Leo casted as Jolanda, friend of Marcella played by another first for Anna Baldini, who was only 15 when shooting this film.

The cyclists group getting ready to kickoff the ride to the beach.

It's interesting to see how the quest for some fresh air on the beach unites all characters regardless of their social class, age and gender. Each one uses their own means of transportation (e.g., bicycles, over-crowded clunky car, sports car, and train) to reach the beach. Once there, each character finds his own place in this societal ladder (e.g., public beach, private beach). Some pay tickets, others sneak-in.

With all this frenetic hassle and bustle, you will also find charming songs of the period such as the theme song Domenica d'agosto performed by Nino Oliviero, Tito Manlio, “Vieni con me” by Nino Oliviero, and De Mura, is sung by Claudio Villa, Giacomo Rondinella and Rossana Beccari.

While three stories revolves around the beach theme, the fourth one tells the story of those who were left behind in vacant Rome. Marcello Mastroianni plays the traffic cop and Pina Malgarini, his girlfriend who find solace in the empty parks as they plan their future together.

Considering the somewhat conservative period, where most films of the classic Neorealism genre covered true social hardships of Italy's post-war society – this film received negative criticism. The Centro Cattolico Cinematografico found it as “one of the poorly constructed films with disgusting moments of exhibitionism.” Naturally, today this film is a great evidence of the period, people, fashions and culture, like the memorable loading of entire family on a clunky car (0:3:00), the spaghetti lunch on the beach (0:36:00) among many others. As such, the film is included in the list of 100 Italian films to be saved.

This simple human desire to have respite from daily troubles, within one's respective means - is the film's greatest message.

These days YouTube is overflowing with rare cinematic gems like this short film by Luigi Filippo D'Amico Guglielmo il dentone, which is part of a triptych film named I Complessi with the other two shorts directed by Dino Risi and Franco Rossi. I searched for the other two on YouTube, with no luck.

That said, this short is a feast for all the Alberto Sordi fans out there coupled with 60's film celebrities who played themselves, such as TV producer Lelio Luttazzi, composer Armando Trovajoli, actress Gaia Germani among others.

The story takes a hint from today's reality shows, but in fact is a job interview for a RAI TV news anchor – a critical position as the person will appear daily in front of 50 million italians. After most candidates failed the rigorous, and I'd say comical tests – two candidates are left. The super photogenic Francesco Martello, played beautifully by Franco Fabrizi. He comes with contacts as his girlfriend is actress Gaia Germani (playing herself). And Guglielmo Bertone, played by the amazing Alberto Sordi. Alberto Sordi, as Il Dentone.

To make the match more interesting, Sordi is no doubt the better skilled candidate; he easily pronounces tough tongue twisters such as “Sopra la panca la capra campa, sotto la panca la capra crepa. (“On the bench the goat lives, under the bench the goat dies”, he finishes writing an essay in less than hour out of the five hours allotted and outfoxes the committee with his geography knowledge. His only flaw is his scary physique – his exaggerated teeth that earns him the nickname “Il Dentone.”

The seven-member committee in charge of the selection is at complete loss how to tell “Il Dentone” why he won't pass the screen, even though his other skills are superb. The episode for writing the essay reminded me of similar one used at 1961's Il Posto – The Job by Ermanno Olmi. Same facial anxiety descends on all candidates, except one who also finishes first to the grand annoyance of the struggling others.

You can watch the complete film below (37 minutes). Unfortunately there are no English subtitles, but now that you have the context it's easy to get a good flavor of this classic Italian comedy.  The complete film - enjoy!

When was the last time you created something with your hands?

In a world of rapid technology changes where digital screens seem to mediate large chunk of our daily lives; from omnipresent mobile screens, to office computers, after work tablet snacking, and big screen TV entertainment - I find this documentary extremely timely. Craftsman's hands like a natural mural with marks of past achievements.

Director Torlonia provides a rare behind the scene look at the people behind the phenomenal success of Italian cinema history. And I am not talking about directors or actors. These are special breed of craftsmen from hair dressers, sculptors, set builders, makeup artists, and milliners – with a common thread; they all use their hands to produce some of the most memorable Italian cinema watching experiences.

Trailer

I find it interesting that this documentary was financed by Louis Vuitton to screen at the opening of their new store and screening room in Rome. Wearing my marketing hat, it’s a classic match of an upscale brand that is interested in associating its product quality with the worldwide notoriety of Italian cinematic artistry.  Sophia Loren's hair wig cast, with the VIP inscription "Do not touch"

The film, narrated by Chirara Mastroianni who knew some of these artisans personally accompanying her father on sets, runs a rich tapestry of interviews with these cinema artisans about memorable set accessory they have created. Their deep devotion to a profession anchored in the old glory days, where you see the satisfaction of being part of a bigger art experience, by contributing tangible objects of beauty; be it a dress for il Gatto Pado – The Leopard or huge head sculpted for a Fellini set.

With all the charming stories of bygone era, the film eloquently conveys the artisans’ pride mixed with the gloomy realization that these days their services are at a decline. Not only Cinecitta' is struggling financially, but also technology offers many shortcuts. Why build huge wood structures when you can build them by pixels?  Post-screening Q&A with director Guido Torlonia.

At the Q&A session, I brought up the question of how all these incredible cinematic accessories are being used today beyond being captured forever in films? Director Torlonia responded that some of them are still reused in expensive productions like HBO’s Rome TV series, Scorsese’s Gangs of New York set is still being used for other films (see separate post from my visit at Cinecitta'), and some displayed in traveling exhibits or museums.

Are you an artist or an artisan? One of the sculptors was asked. To this he replied: “artisan because he doesn’t have the freedom of an artist to create whatever comes to mind. He instead, receives instructions and breathes life into the director's vision.” I’d agree but would say this is not different from an artist competing to receive a grant with specific requirements nowadays.

The film's opening and closing scenes aptly portray close-ups of the calloused hands of all featured artisans. Beyond the historical value of this documentary, the message I took from it is, we have an amazing world laden with tangible experiences around us; we sometimes need to stop and smell the roses.

With our hands…

“Unlikely Combinations” may be considered one of the most effective recipes to drive engagement in arts.

In cinema in general and in our case Italian cinema, you can instantly think of many successful examples. Here are two prominent location themes that were heavily used in both comedy and drama genres: 1) South and North differences: Mafioso - (Alberto Lattuada - 1962)where a Milanese couple is visiting the husband’s Sicilian hometown. And vice versa Rocco e I Suoi Fratelli where a Southern family is coming into grips facing the society of the industrial North. 2) Immigration themes: Culture clash for an Italian immigrant in Switzerland, I have recently wrote about: Pane e Pane e cioccolata – Bread and Chocolate (Franco Brussati – 1974)or Bello, onesto, emigrato Australia sposerebbe compaesana illibata – A Girl in Australia - 1971) depicting  Alberto Sordi as an Italian immigrant in Australia awaiting an Italian bride to arrive and the comedy of errors that ensues.

Trailer

One of the great delights attending Open Roads New Italian Cinema festival at Lincoln Center, is the charming short films you get to discover. This year, I caught two. This film that followed by Q&A with director Giovanna Tavaiani and Hand Made Cinema following the same format.

In this documentary, director Giovanna Taviani leverages the principle of “Unlikely Combinations” by following Salvatore Striano, a Napolitan prisoner that found his redemption through theater acting in Shakespeare plays at Rebibbia Prison. His journey was the premise for brothers Taviani’s 2012 award-winning Cesare deve morire - Caesar Must Die.  In this film, Giovanna Taviani places Striano in San Miniato, the Tuscan town that served as the setting for brothers Taviani’s 1982 La Notte di San Lorenzo - The Night of the Shooting Stars.

Striano walks the quaint alleys of this picturesque town, underscoring the south and north differences, while meeting locals that share their stories about the massacre that took place at the town’s church during WWII.  In this sense, the film cleverly weaves in the personal anomalies of Striano’s journey with the past of this Tuscan town and the wartime ordeals its people as a collective suffered. Opening words from director Giovanna Taviani before the screening.

At the Q&A session, there was an interesting debate about the translation of the movie title to English. Il Riscatto means The Rescue, but the English title used was The Redemption. It was finally settled and I agree, that Redemption is more appropriate. Rescue deals with the physical removal of danger, but redemption adds another layer the spiritual rescue and self-realization that Striano found through art – from a criminal with no future to an actor in demand.

It’s June, so that means it’s time for Open Roads: New Italian Cinema 2013 at New York’s Lincoln Film Society. It’s a fantastic annual festival that brings some of the freshest voices in Italian Cinema, thus breaking the chain for the typical crop of old classics that some Italian cinema fests tend to focus on. Excellent capture of the film essence, the towering family; always worried, always caring.

This year, I kicked off my cinematic journey with a debut film by Daniele Cipri, a Sicilian director from Palermo, known for his award-winning Cinico TV series, he co-produced with Franco Maresco for RAI 3. The series illustrated the rough Sicilian reality of marginalization, suffering and passive acceptance, through caricatured and grotesque characters.

In this film, based on a novel by Roberto Alajmo, Cipri leverages these foundations to tell the story of the Ciraulo family that lives in a poor housing project in Palermo. The dominating father, Nicola (Toni Servillo) makes a living with his passive son Tancredi (Fabrizio Falco) - scavenging old metal from abandoned ships. Nicola, wishes that his son, aged 21, will become more assertive and take charge of the business, so he can take over and provide for the family.

However, Tancredi – a typical Sicilian name – that I find carries complete opposite associations: the name means “deep thought or advice” or the one who thinks hard before providing advice. It also reminded me of another famous Tancredi from Luchino Visconti’s 1963 Il Gattopardo -  The Leopard. In that film, the over ambitious Tancredi, played by Alain Delon, during the tumultuous years of Italy’s Risorgimento. In short, a heavy name that here is in conflict with the son’s naïve character.

I won’t go any further sharing the plot to keep the experience fresh for those of you will happen to see the film. Instead, I will focus on elements that captured my attention. Cipri's story-within- a-story tactic is also visually mirrored in a few close shot scenes, like this one, that after stabilizing the dialog, the camera zooms out to reveal another distant layer. In this case, a metal pipe that adds a poetic frame to the scavengers' lives.

The first thing that came to mind, is the innovative story within a story plot line. Yes, we have all seen this tactic being used in so many other films and our brain is already trained to identify certain patterns that will lead to certain outcomes. Well, not in this movie. Every time, I thought I figured the probable outcome of a scene, it ended up different. Cipri has this amazing talent to use external plot, positioned as distant as possible from the core plot, and then change the plausible connection between the two, at last moment.

Official trailer

I also liked the use of vulgar and grotesque characters, almost Fellinians, to carry the tragic-comic ambience of the film. Cipri’s screenplay offers each member of the Ciraulo family, “close-up scenes” for the audience to better understand their personality and drivers. I especially liked that tactic employed with the role of the grandmother (Aurora Quattrocchi), that most of the film has minor presence, but then comes to life in a big way, in a single scene later.

This comic relief coupled with a dose of bitter social criticism, is in fact the classic ingredients of the Commedia all'italiana - Italian comedy – of early 60s. In fact, the opening scene shows a bunch of workers, led by Nicola hurriedly making their way to be the first to scavenge a lopsided ship in the bay. Without knowing how this scene will develop, it reminded me of another memorable scene from Mario Monicelli’s 1958 I Soliti Ignoti – Big Deal in Madonna Street (considered the first Italian comedy film). In that scene, Peppe (Vittorio Gassman) the job-averse hides away from cops only to find himself unwillingly in a crowd of eager workers in a junkyard.

On the surface you may say, there is no direct connection, other than the location type and the genre as both scenes forked out in different storyline directions. However, that’s the beauty of movie watching, there is no wrong answer. Our bank of personal experiences, and associations to similar movies, spark our imagination to frame our point of view.

“It was the son” is the movie title; it might be right but also wrong...

In this film, director Franco Brusati brings to life a common theme in 70’s cinema, packaged in commedia all'italiana film genre; the struggle to find your own identity in a foreign land. It’s a universal theme we can find in today’s challenges of immigrants.

Idyllic park scene where poor Nino eats his sandwich: a bread to satisfy his hunger, but with no money for meat, he settles for much accessible chocolate.

Nino Manfredi provides an exquisite portrayal of Nino Garofalo, an Italian from Ciociaria who left his family and kids for a job in Switzerland. He works in a fancy restaurant as a waiter-on-trial competing with a Turkish waiter for a permanent position.

Throughout the film, you can see the tremendous efforts Nino makes to adapt to the Swiss culture, at the extreme he even dyes his hair blond. Yet, there is a constant struggle between his Italian identity and the new one he attempts to adopt. This constant tension is accentuated in the numerous incidents when he comes across Napolitans who sing their heart out, but for Nino their songs represents the most vulgar past he’s trying to break away from.

And when you think about it, here are some of the challenges an immigrant has to deal with: uprooted from his family and friends, new language, unclear job prospects, often times different climate (in this case snowy mountains), and above all a complete culture where you need to build your life from zero as none of the typical support systems such as family and friends are available. All Nino, and any immigrant for that matter has, is a strong will to make it in the new country and iron pride mixed with the perennial threat of returning back home as a loser.

The quest for a better life elsewhere brings about cultural clashes with the native Swiss that in several scenes are portrayed as perfect human specimen compared to the Italian immigrants. Most notably, is the chicken coop scene where the difference between life of the illegal immigrants and chickens is marginal, at best.

This constant identity struggle is eloquently articulated with Nino’s friend Elena (Anna Karina), urging him “scegli di  vivere - choose to live” when Nino is almost ready to give up and return home, penniless.  And as we all know the need to make peace with yourself and find the right path that effectively settles your past with your future is part of the human condition, regardless if you have just landed in America or 5th generation native.

Right from the choice of the title - The Ricotta - Pasolini kicks off an onslaught of symbols to convey his dissatisfaction with the dull consumerism of Italian society during the economic boom of early 60’s. To his belief, the government along with the church banded together to exploit the poor. A prophet ahead of his time, but the way he expressed his ideas alienated people left and right, secular or religious. Pasolini and Welles on the set. Interestingly Welles at the time had no clue who Pasolini was.

How he was able to muster it, you ask? Pasolini was on one hand an atheist that used this short film about the Passion of Jesus he grandly believed its scriptures. Yet, deplored the way the Roman Catholic church maltreated the poor and operated as a commercial operation in collaboration with the government.

And on the political side, he was a communist, that believed that the communists did not follow their ideals of equal treatment of people and cared more about their well-being than the poor. Because to his belief only the poor represent the true values of a man. We can see this sentiment manifested in a wide range of past works such as Ragazzi di vita (Boys of Life), Accatone, Mamma Roma and others.

Pasolini was also gay in a time where it was not very understood. All the above culminated to his murder in 1975, that to this day still remains an unsolved mystery.

This short film, the most memorable from an omnibus film - RoGoPaG (AKA Ro.Go.Pa.G.) with shorts from other prominent directors: Roberto Rossellini, Jean-Luc Godard, and less known Ugo Gregoretti - tells the story of a poor extra Stracci in a film within a film story.

Now that you have the message of the film, let’s peel this “multi-layered onion”  and see how Pasolini is communicating it, which is quite astounding for a short film (will try to do it without revealing too much):

Title: As I mentioned, Pasolini initiates his message right from the title of the film: La ricotta - the most simple cheese type that is typically consumed by the poor. The cheese is made from goat cheese, which again represents the naive nature of the poor mulled by the powerfuls. Ricotta literally means cooked twice. which can give you some inklings about the poor Stracci that not only had a miserable life, his fate is unforgiving either.

Stracci: The role of Stracci which means rugs, paints the robust values of the poor who care for their family first before themselves. Their shrewdness to improvise to make a living. And within the Passion of Jesus film, Stracci plays the Good Thief, which again is an ironic statement. Stracci always uses a nearby cave to hide his lunch and as such is reduced to a cave man, that at some point is ridiculed by the other actors as he stuffs his face almost like a rare exhibit. The choice of a cave is also interesting. The proletariat settles for life underground, which is in a way reminiscent of 1927's Metroplis by Fritz Lang, a futuristic film, depicting the rich industrialists oppressing the poor who live under ground in workers city.

Set: The film was shot in Rome in a field between Via Ampia Antica and Via Ampia Nuova to convey this “twilight zone” of decadence of Italian society. This dissonance between the positive old and negative new is augmented in the crown scene by showing in the horizon the new buildings for the poor popping up (what we call “the projects”), thus adding an apocalyptic flare.

Soundtrack: The film starts with a modern twist music, where we see actors in their old garb dancing to a music that back then was still considered unconservative - underscoring the corrupted modern society hedonism quest. The choice of Dies Irae - a latin requiem, when we Stracci’s family is eating in the field - to mourn the passing of old values. Sempre Libera (Always Free) from Verdi’s La Traviata, when we see the press, celebs, and the rich congregate to express their detachment and their sole interest to have fun. Whenever we see Stracci runs, the music turns jovial, and the stopmotion technique that offers a Chaplinsque feel to his haplessness.

Orson Welles: Pasolini uses Welles (plays the director for the film in film) as his mouth in this film to convey his message that is eloquently articulated in the interview he conducts with the journalist. Welles allowed the journalist only 4 questions, and finishes the interview by disparaging remarks about the fact that the journalist representing the average nobody didn’t understand anything and so in fact doesn’t exist.

Colors: Whenever we see the film in film of the Passion of Jesus being shot, the screen turns into bold colors, echoing Italian Renaissance painters such as Pontormo and Fiorentino, that represent exaggerated false reality. This technique is juxtaposed with the black and white scenes where Stracci appears to convey the true reality of the poor who needs to make tough decisions every day.

Now that you have the premise, the message, and the tactics Pasolini used, play it forward to the present, do you agree with Pasolini’s prophecy? Is it still true today? What is your take?

Beyond the message, I find the film as a great evidence to the powerful and rich canvas the cinematic medium offers directors to express their ideas. The story is just the context, but the content ingredients (e.g., sound, picture, script etc.) carry their independent messaging channel.

You can watch the 34 minutes film in its entirety right here (with English subtitles):

For my day 2 in Rome's International Film Festival I picked a documentary film by Sergio Naitza, under the Documentary track out of the competition. We’re all too accustomed to be exposed to the lives of the A-stars like Marcello Mastroianni, and Sophia Loren, I figured the story behind an actor forever in a supporting role could be interesting too. I was not disappointed.

Film's trailer

The film is about the colorful character on and off camera of Tiberio Murgia. If you never heard the name, the title may help:  "The Person Unknown" is a direct reference to Murgia's 1958's debut film, considered the first film heralding the Italian comedy genre - I Soliti Ignoti - Big Deal in Madonna Street when he was discovered by Mario Monicelli.

Through myriad of interviews with fellow actors, film historians, family members, childhood friends and Murgia's interviews - we learn a whole lot about his story and how sometimes all you need is luck that can turn things around in a big way. The film's poster with Tiberio Murgia's signature gaze.

Consider this play on fate, Murgia a Sardinian who left his wife and kids, to find work as dishwasher in a trattoria in Via Della Croce in Rome, which also happens to be a place where director Mario Monicelli dines. Monicelli sees Murgia and immediately invites him to do a screen test for I Soliti Ignoti along with several other Sicilians for the role of Michele Ferribotte - the crazy Sicilian. Murgia has no idea what is a screen test and ends up getting the role that will typecast his career with over hundred and forty films later as the bigot Sicilian, where as mentioned earlier - he's in fact a Sardinian…

Murgia says when he was younger in his hometown Ortisano, a doctor offered to fix his eyes for free as he tended to raise his eyebrows with his head tilted up, so much that his friends nicknamed him "look ahead." Murgia refused the operation and claimed, "that's how my mother made me and I won't change."And in fact throughout the film and also in opening scene we see an interview with Murgia in his 80's where the camera angle is positioned from bottom up onto his face to underscore his "tilted head" looking down at the audience.

This facial expression has become his lucky charm and earned him a long career in numerous film in secondary roles - always as a crazy jealous Sicilian. For his debut film in I Soiliti ignoti, he was dubbed by Renato Cominetti, an actor from Rai Theater who by origin was a Napolitan who knew how to make a Sicilian accent from Catania. Again, double contradictory that proves that in cinema the packaging is always more important than the truth.

The other aspect of the film describes Murgia's womanizing nature and the various conquests and trouble he got into as a result. Beyond his known kids from 2 wives, there are over 10 other children he never knew about. Ironic moment is revealed when in TV game show one of his early lovers from Sardinia comes forward, but Murgia has no clue who she is and instead remembers another woman from his hometown to the roaring laugh of the audience. Tiberio Murgia and Claudia Cardinale in their debut film - 1958's I soliti ignoti by Mario Monicelli.

All in all it's what you may call a Cinderella story about an actor that came from nowhere, all he brought was his signature physique, repackaged by a prominent director to carry a whole new identity that changed him forever. The film also offers a rare study of how Italian films were made back in the 50's and 60's. I especially liked an interesting testimonial by Claudia Cardinale that I Soiliti Ignoti was also her first film, talking about the careful set dynamics with other much well noted actors like Toto, Marcello Mastroiani and Vittorio Gassman.

The film interestingly confirms the premise that genuine stories can also be found at the periphery outside the typical limelight.

Waiting for first screening of "L'isola dell'angelo caduto" by Carlo Lucarelli @ Rome Film Festival.

From the rich program of the festival, I picked the debut film of director Carlo Lucarelli, famous for his TV documentary series about crime: Blu notte misteri d'Italia.

The name of the film derives from an ancient story that when God chased away Lucifer he dropped on that island. And true to Lucarelli’s genre expertise, this film offers a suspense-laden plot centered on a police officer and his wife arriving on the island during 1925. It's an invented island - island as a concept - as we are not told exactly its exact location. The timeline focuses around 5 critical days, where strange murders start happening that create a tension between the police officer and the black-shirt fascist commander that is managing the island prison full of anti-fascist intellectuals.

The police officer (Giampaolo Morelli)and his wife (Sara Sartini) are sent from the mainland to this excluded environment and in that sense are trapped the same way as the island prisoners. Later we learned that this mission was not an accident, it has to do with past events the stubborn, justice-seeking police officer was involved in. The film uses a jovial song the suffering officer’s wife keeps playing as way to escape from the dour realities of the island.

Director and cast sharing their impressions on the red carpet (in Italian)

There is also the military doctor played by Giuseppe Cederna, that I immediately associated with his role (piccolo Farina) in 1991's Gabriele Salvatores' Mediterraeneo; same fascist period, same settings of soldiers stranded on a forsaken island, but with one big difference. Whereas this film is anchored around mystery (aka giallo) with protagonists doing their best to escape from the island, Mediterraeno explored the concept of escape to the island and idled along depicting the daydreaming activities of the soldiers and their interactions with island natives. In this film most interactions are strictly between the island forced guests: the police officer, the fascists stationed there, the military doctor and others.

Inline with the film focus to resolve the unexplained murders, the soundtrack offers amalgam of disturbing sound effects that makes you believe the next scene will reveal the true motive behind the crimes.

The film leverages the gap between the need of a newcomer sent to command a foreign environment and the local norms that operate against him. A similar premise was used in Pietro Germi's 1949 In Nome della legge - in the name of the Law. In both cases the newcomer after several clashes with local forces decides to stay and keep his integrity instead of conformism that comes with comfort.

From this aspect, we hear the comforting words of the police officer to his wife on their first day and a year after promising that one day they'll leave the island, but as the film matures we know these are vacant promises. Integrity won!

As part of my visit to Rome's International Film Festival, I figured it only makes sense to pay a visit to the birthplace of Italian cinema - Cinecitta' Studios, It's about 40 minutes from the center of Rome, going through some suburbs that later my guide informed me are not considered great places to hang out. Entrance.

Cinecitta' studios were founded in 1937 by Benito Mussolini and his head of cinema Luigi Freddi for propaganda purposes and so most of the grand directors from the 40's - such as Roberto Rossellni and Vittorio Di Sica - got their backing from the government in order to produce their films. And during the 50's and 60's Cinecitta' have grown in popularity where Fellini made all his films with Italian artistry reaching new heights, thus attracting American productions to be executed there like Ben Hur. That prosperous period was called Hollywood sul Tevere (Hollywood on the Tiber) with big American productions made there. Prop from Fellini's 1976 film Casanova, now situated in the open court at Cineceitta' Studios.

Nowadays, with the deteriorating European economy, Cinecitta' is not doing that great. There are still TV and movie productions done there - including Martin Scorsese's 2002 Gangs of New York (original set is still being reused) - but the studio is indeed struggling. My guide told me that Giulio Andreotti (prominent Italian politician) issued a law that some percentage of movies' proceeds produced in the studio will be extracted to support the studio.

I arrived at 4pm during a rather rainy day to the main gate. The plan is simple: a) visit the exhibit and b) have a tour guide on the set. I highly recommend taking a tour guide seeing the amazing sets and visiting the exhibit.

The Exhibit:

The exhibit has two categories: overview of Italian cinema in general and a special area dedicated to Fellini's work. The following entails my impressions: Open sign that depicts the history of Cinecitta' Studios (click image to enlarge).

The exhibit has a narrow corridor where classic masterpieces are projected from the ceiling down onto the floor and are reflected back from side mirrors. The result is total immersive experience. Smaller rooms are on both sides of corridor, each dedicated to a different cinematic discipline.

Still in the exhibit in a room dedicated to screenplay giants like this one: Suso Cecchi D'Amico. Among her many accomplishments did you know the ending of Bicycle Thieves (turning the father into a bike thief) was her idea?

The Tour Guide:

It could be that it was a rainy afternoon or the fact that this is not #1 tourist attraction in Rome, but the group tour guide to my delight ended up as being an individual show and tell with our guide walking us through the history behind prominent sets in the facility and general observations about current state. Here are a few examples:

After walking around all day and seeing Rome's timeless monuments, it was astonishing to see how this medieval village set felt so real although fake. All the textures of buildings and pavements that supposedly lasted eons are in fact prints...

It’s amazing that a year has just passed and it’s already June and time for Lincoln Center’s excellent series: Open Roads: New Italian Cinema 2012. I attended last year and enjoyed the fresh lineup; I reviewed a few. Director Marina Spada during Q&A session.

The Walter Reade Theater was fully packed with eager audience that looked forward to watching another expression of modern Italian cinema and getting a behind the scenes glimpse with the post-screening Q&A session with the director, Marina Spada, which this is her fourth film.

The film tells the ironic story of Monica (Claudia Gerini) a corporate motivation speaker in Milan, that on one hand trains employees how to fill out “emptiness” with new opportunities, yet her personal life is nothing but. She is single, involved in a no future relationship with her boss Vittorio (Paolo Pierobon), and tending her religion-obsessed father (Raffaele Pisu) who lives alone in the countryside in Tuscany. The plot reveals that Monica still carries a childhood traumatic event when her mother left with another guy for Greece; the relationship did not make it and she came back to her village with a child. Monica blames her mother for abandoning her and her father, which also strains her relationship with her stepsister, Simona (Claudia Coli – also played in Come Undone). The opposite is true for Monica’s loving care for Simona’s son Roberto (Enrico Bosco), which aggravates Simona.

Monica (Claudia Gerini) during work break that capturesmodern progress, which is nothing but smoke and mirrors when flanked against her own future.

The narrative slowly unfolds with strong tones of brooding, alienation and emotional emptiness with cold urban scenes of glossy corporate buildings where personal livelihoods are ruthlessly cut short against Europe economic crisis. Spada’s interest in the present, modernity and its price tag on the individual is eloquently flanked with scenes of the countryside in Tuscany – representing the agricultural past that now has become an irrelevant economic force.

I especially liked her technique of using what I call “ambient transitional scenes.” You’re all familiar with them when you see static landscape (e.g., rolling mountains, busy street etc.) of a certain location to set the tone for a specific dialog that happens in the area. Usually these ambient scenes last no more than 2 seconds, whereas in this film Spada uses two scenes of cloudy skies and one of a forest seen from a moving car – for as long as 10 seconds. When asked about her emphasis on vertical image structure in the Q&A, she replied that this is part of her composition strategy that is anchored around the nature of images, which helps deepen the depth of field in the slow lingering frames. The more you look at the ambient scene, the more details are revealed. I liked that as it aligns perfectly with my interest in ambient video.

The film's slow brooding pace is supported by the mellow light trumpet music of Bebo Ferra and Paolo Fresu, that helps drive home the sense of ironic hopelessness. Monica the successful motivation speaker trains others to better their tomorrows (even at false pretext), yet her own tomorrow is pretty grim.

With the global success of Fellini’s 1960 La Dolce Vita, Cinecitta’ the glorious studio in Rome continued the theme of love in modern times, featuring four leading directors: Mario Monicelli, Federico Fellini, Luchino Visconti and Vittorio de Sica. The last three were considered veterans back then, whereas Monicelli an up and coming director that his 1958 film I soliti ignoti – Big Deal in Madonna Street - is considered the first of the commedia all’italiana genre. Luciana waiting for Renzo in the packed swimming pool with the lurking boss approaching.

The first film in this anthology of four, tells the story of Renzo (Germano Gilioli) and Luciana (Marisa Solinas) a young couple during the Italian economic boom of early ‘60’s. We initially see the couple at work under strain trying to hide the fact that they are engaged from their nosy boss out of fear of getting fired. The film attempts to show what could have been a millennial love story if shot today. New set of dilemmas that are in complete opposite to Italian traditional family mores. For example, the improvised marriage in a church that looks more like a Las Vegas instant marriage parlor than you would expect from an Italian church, the struggle of the couple for economic independence and once achieved - the grinding daily routine.

There are a couple of scenes I especially liked because of their unique visual value: the packed swimming pool with millions of people clad only in bathing suites – feels like a gigantic colony of wavering organisms painted in brown with patches of light blue pool waters. There is also the swiveling stage in the disco laden with couples dancing or better yet, the crowded movie theater where Luciana finally sighed in relief while hugging Renzo – finally some privacy…

Indeed, the theme of privacy is central to the plot, as the couple throughout the film is in search of this scarce commodity, but when they finally get it, it’s thrown aside due to more important pragmatic priorities like job security and planning for the future. And this quest is whimsically punctuated by Luciana’s occasional excitements: Che meraviglia! (how nice!). Glimpse of hope to relax on Sunday, as the couple negotiates their new responsibilities.

The soundtrack alternates between jazzy tune to convey the modern pace of life the couple leads that in turn changes into a more somber sax and organ interplay. The only ray of hope for the newly wed couple straining under their conflicting work routines is the poignant scene when Luciana hurriedly takes a tiny sip from her espresso Renzo offers before leaving to work and says:

Domenica, Domenica restiamo tutto al giorno in letto. Che Meraviglia! Ciao! (Sunday, Sunday we’ll stay all day in bed. How nice! Bye).

That's the price of progress and the socio-urban face of post-war modern Italy.

New magistrate arrives, and old one departs.

It usually happens when a new guy, typically from the north, but in this case from the Sicilian capital, arrives to the wild South in effort to instill some law and order and the local backlash it creates. We have already seen this formula in action in many other classic Westerns, and later modern urban detective films. It’s the alienated outsider with a mission that is in stark conflict with local norms and collective solidarity. Guido Schiavi (Massimo Girotti), the tireless magistrate in another face-off with the mafia.

In this respect, the film is a precursor to director Pietro Germi’s future films, a Northerner from Genoa that devoted most of his career to creating films around contemporary social issues pertaining to Sicilian heritage from an outsider inquisitive angle. This exact gap between Northern and Sicilian social norms of family, church and the law - is the creative engine that typically drives Germi’s plots forward and makes you reexamine your own truths, coupled with his signature bitter criticism – a hallmark of the commedia all'italiana genre. Best examples are Divorzio all'italiana - Divorce Italian Style (1961) and Sedotta e Abbandonata - Seduced and Abandoned (1963)

The crime and its consequences In this film, a young magistrate from Palermo (Guido Schiavi played beautifully by Massimo Girotti) is sent to the town of Capodarso to investigate a murder where the mafia and the local baron are involved. Throughout the film, the camera is inquisitively capturing reactions to the ensuing events by focusing on close facial expressions of victimized local peasants, the law-breaking mafia heads, the collaborating well-off baron and the magistrate who is struggling to navigate these stormy waters.

Tirade scene with an excellent study of local faces that carry much more that they can share.

Just by judging the surnames of key players from the above four groups, Germi implicitly conveys his opinion about this wry influence structure: Passalacqua - The mafia head is engaged in criminal acts, but no one will say anything like his name - water under bridge. Lo Vasto, is the baron’s last name to indicate his large riches, whereas the magistrate and his police marshal are given very weak names to indicate their powerless status: Schiavi (slaves) and Griffo’ (snout). Interestingly, the peasants we see are typically given only first names like the young Paulino that represent the most vulnerable fabric in this society as they are both victimized and from fear keep their mouth shut.

One of the film’s strongest scenes (see above) is the long tirade the magistrate gives to a crowded village piazza where he promised all that despite being pushed around so many times, he’s not willing to give up and he will stay in the village to keep the law. The message is clear: the good forces will continue fighting the bad intertwined in an eternal battle where the poor man pays the most.

Individualism vs. determinism is it truly up to the individual to change his destiny or is it all predetermined?

Anna Magnani in an emotion explosion.

In his second film Mamma Roma, Pier Paolo Pasolini is constantly moving between these two extreme poles. The story, brings about Pasolini’s typical characters on the margins of life as skillfully represented by the role of Anna Magnani, a Roman prostitute that tries hard to do a career change and at the same time ensure a better life for her son. Some say, Pasolini is in fact using Mamma Roma as analogy to all Italy, by putting a blaming finger to the responsibility of the state and the church that abandoned the struggling poor.

In some aspects, you may find typical themes to Pasolini’s first film Accatone. In both films Sergio Citti plays a local pimp who tries in vein to better his poor existence in Rome's slums. The Neorealist rough reality in both films is brought up into an epic expression, as if to say: nothing's new here this is an eternal human condition - by using classic music as soundtrack: Bach in Accatone and Vivaldi in Mamma Roma. The Last Supper by Leonardo Da Vinci.

Pasolini's opening scene in Mamma Roma.

Another technique to amplify the epic portrayal of the characters is the strong visual influence from classic artworks such as the first scene positioned as The Last Supper by Leonardo Da Vinci; or when Ettore, strapped in his bed, is closely expressed as Andrea Mantegna’s The Lamentation over the Dead Christ. The Lamentation over the Dead Christ by Andrea Mantegna.

Ettore Garofolo in Pasolini's Mamma Roma.

I especially liked the night scenes where Anna Magani is shown walking the dark road and brisk encounters with clients, friends, are woven into her long monolog. I found these scenes as an allegory to life itself (road of life) and the attempt to make sense of it despite the pitfalls.

The son, Ettore (Ettore Garofolo) brings about an authentic portrayal of a son who grew up away from his mother and they both meet again in his teens, he tries hard to both understand his mother as well as rebel and find his voice. Interestingly, because of the detachment, Mamma Roma (Magnani) still tries to compensate for lost years and treat him as a young boy, if you consider that scene where Ettore is shown riding a carousel with Mamma Roma watching.

Looking outside the film, we know that Pasolini had a very close relationship with his mother; and within this context you could interpret some of the mother-son scenes such as the dance scene as quite on the intimate side.

Throughout the film you will see three visual signifiers: the open fields, the new white buildings and the ruins of old aqueducts. These elements help paint a picture of a society in transition from old to new, from Roman waterways that provided life to the city – to ruins indicating figurative death represented by the lifeless white buildings and the new gospel of consumerism Pasolini fought hard against.

The film brings about a simple message of human basic need to create a better future despite reality’s constant constraints. If it was a direct route to success for everybody then: a) sense of accomplishment will be lost and every action will become a habit with a predicted outcome b) movies will lose their conflict-driven storyline and become banal and c) you tell me?

In this film Giuseppe Piccioni returns to familiar themes of alienation and the decline of modern family structures, the resulting need for companionship and our value system that wraps it all in good and bad labels. The film's 3 protagonists: Giulia, Guido and their swimming pool.

The film runs 3 main parallel plot lines: the semi-successful writing career of Guido (Valerio Mastandrea), his deteriorating family structure until separation from his wife and daughter, the encounter of Guido with Giulia (Valeria Golino) - his daughter’s swimming instructor by day and as later revealed - a prison inmate by night. Hence, the movie title “Giulia non esce la sera - Giulia Doesn't Date at Night”

As the relationship develops between Giulia and Guido, mostly emanating from the personal swimming classes Giulia provides Guido, Picconi vividly shows us the clear fault lines around us. In one of the many swimming pool scenes, Giulia brings Guido underwater to see the world from an unusual point of view – a wondrous twilight zone where all people are the same as they try to negotiate their way in the water.

The tables are radically turned when Guido needs to face questions about her past and fulfill her prison parole duties - off water. Confronted with Guido’s harsh prison reality and the reason why she ended up behind bars, you begin to realize that the swimming pool is Giulia’s only salvage, the only place where she can command control on others and at the same time can take stoke on her life from afar.

I especially liked Giulia’s blank facial expressions as she holds in her true story and how difficult it is to break down her defense walls she had built to fend off past ordeals from reappearing or new relationships with Guido to easily exist. True, it’s a natural survival instinct to learn from the past, however sometimes at the risk of generalizing and missing out on truly solid opportunities to connect and grow.

Some memorable visual signifiers include: the half vacated apartment Guido lives in, an effective internal representation of his life after his wife and daughter left him; the recurring appearance of the windows’ white shades the wind blows, which seems to indicate that winds of change are coming; and the numerous swimming pool scenes, signifying as mentioned above, an alternate reality, that also plays as the unassuming context/pretext for the relationship between Giulia and Guido to develop.

Piangi Roma - Cry Rome: Theme song by Bausetelle.

As viewer, the film takes you on a journey where some elements are gradually revealed about its protagonists; a conflict is detected, solution is attempted sending rings of impact on sub-plots - packaged nicely with the emotive theme soundtrack by Baustelle, sung in part by Valeria Goilino. Beautiful!

23 songs shot in 21 days would be the skinniest premise for an otherwise very passionate musical journey by John Turturro into the cultural alleys and pathways of a very special city - Napoli. Trailer.

I attended the film uptown opening, at The Film Society of Lincoln Center's new state-of-the-art Elinor Bunin Munroe Film Center in New York where the screening also followed a Q&A with actor and director John Turturro (see video clip below). Indeed, a very sleek space that truly deserves its consistent appeal as the “mecca” for cinefiles.

The film opens with a personal introduction by Turturro among other comments peppered throughout the film. Turturro later revealed his narration was an advice he received from Francesco Rosi who also had directed him as Primo Levi in 1997 La Tregua – The Truce. I can’t argue with Maestro Rosi, but personally, I would have preferred to leave this English narration out, as it takes away from the pure authenticity of the spoken Napolitan dialect and music. In those instances, I felt the film unjustly turns into a Travel Channel segment.

Turturro follows a tried-and-true template that was formerly christened by Wim Wenders’s 1999 Buena Vista Social Club with similar ingredients: authentic location, archival footage, and phenomenal homegrown music performed by unknown yet gifted musicians that tell their rough life stories between songs. Someone in the audience later labeled this film as “music neorealism” which I found interesting. Reggae-styled Nun te scurda’ performed by Almamegretta, Raiz, Pietra Montecorvino & M’Barka Ben Taleb.

You will find here some of the classic Neapolitan masterpieces such as Maruzzella by Renato Carosone with a striking performance on Napoli’s beach of all places by Gennaro Cosmo Parlato; O Sole Mio featuring legendary opera singer Enrico Caruso among less known but emotionally charged songs like Passione performed by James Senese. You can totally believe Senese’s bluesy delivery especially when he earlier recounts his challenging childhood in Napoli as a son of a black American solider whom he never met and a local girl.

An interesting anecdote, during my recent vacation to Napa Valley, I made the day for a friendly Napolitan bar tender in a wine tasting room after showing him the song list. So I guess these songs are considered gold standard even by the natives.

The film also includes archival footage from Istituto Luce, showcasing post-World War II Napoli: the people, their hardships, the American liberation and most of all the music as a powerful thread to the present that keep Napolitans alive. From this perspective the songs represent Napoli’s history of being conquered so many times, resulting in an eclectic ethnic collage.

Turturro’s as an Italian-American (half Sicilian half Pugliese) consciously decided not to show the pretty touristic image of Napoli and instead focused more on the evocative Napolitan reality as evidenced by singers and locals. In this sense, the film represents his personal journey into Napoli’s rich musical culture anchored around the past with WWII American liberation and its impact on locals and the present with its eclectic music scene. As such, the film nicely closes an identity loop with a global truth: know where you came from.

The big message the film eloquently delivers is simple. Music unlike any art form is about that special and direct dialog it has with the audience that goes beyond language, manipulative plots, director intent, history or any other external layers. At the end of the day, it’s all about this precious interplay between the audience personal experiences and the music. I found the music fairly contagious, so be ware.

I leave you with the post-screening discussion between Actor and director John Turturro and Italian journalist Andrea Visconti at Lincoln Center:

Quick, what comes to your mind when you think about the word “island?”

It’s not a coincidence the word swings between two opposing associations: on the positive end, it offers exotic escape, away from it all repose, while on the negative – a sense of forced seclusion, and disconnectedness from rest of the world.

The same duality we find in Giovanna Taviani’s latest and charming documentary I had the opportunity to catch last week at Open Roads: New Italian Cinema, a festival hosted by Lincoln Film Society in New York. In fact, the film’s original title explicitly expresses this duality: Fughe e approdi (Escapes and Shores).

But first, a bit of context: in order to fully appreciate this film, you need to know that the lead role in this film is marvelously played by the Aeolian islands (volcanic archipelago in the Tyrrhenian Sea north of Sicily). The islands serve the settings for both the personal story of the director, growing up in the island of Salina, and for myriad stories told by the islanders that hosted some of the most prominent cinematic gems shot there from early 40’s until the present. From this perspective, the film is truly an ode for the Aeolian islands and their remarkable cultural and political history.

Second, Giovanna Taviani, is the daughter of Vittorio Taviani of the famed Brothers Taviani and was featured as little girl in their masterpiece Kaos (Paolo and Vittorio Taviani -1984). So growing up in the island of Salina, being the daughter of, and participating in this iconic film – provide effective themes to weave the story of the Aeolian islands from a very personal perspective of a director that attempts, and in my opinion, succeeds in finding her own cinematic voice despite her privileged background.

And that’s tough. Original boat and fisherman from Brothers Taviani's 1984 Kaos as a narrative bridge between space and time.

Taviani demonstrates a skillful storytelling strategy by using several personal anchors such as personally narrating the film (almost as vocal diary), and the use of the original boat and fisherman Franco Figlio d’oro from Kaos. I especially liked the way Taviani is in fact taking the audience on a majestic voyage both in space: having the red sailed boat as scene connector, hopping from island to island – and time: the occasionally humorous interviews with the islanders and archive footage to bring historical and cinematic events to life.

Beyond the personal aspects, the film provides a highly educational review of some of the most important historical events associated with the islands such as the confinement and escape of anti-fascists Carlo Rosselli and Emilio Lussu from the island of Lipari and slew of cinematic masterpieces shot on the islands. From mid- 40’s, the pioneering work of Alliata, Maraini and Moncada who founded Panaria Film, historical production company that produced Italy's first submarine documentaries, 1954’s Isole di fuoco (islands of Fire) by Vittorio De Seta - to more renowned films by Antonioni with “L’avventura”, Rossellini with 1950’s “Stromboli” featuring Ingrid Bergman on the island of Stromboli and the ensuing volcanic scandal of Anna Magnani, offended by Rossellini’s breaking up with her for Bergman, and as result shooting “Vulcano” on a nearby island; 1993’s Dear Diary (Caro diario) by Nanni Moretti and Massimo Troisi in 1993’s Il Postino – to name a few.

As I watched the film, I experienced this unique blend of the wildness of the islands with their volcanic eruptions and historic rough times they inflicted on islanders, but at the same time – the islands’ sheer and intoxicating beauty as magnet for the greatest Italian cinema directors. I guess, I am a little biased since I visited the Aeolian Islands exactly a year ago and the place is indeed beautifully inspiring: the conquer and perseverance of the human spirit over the forces of nature.

Taviani represents a new generation of documentarists that is not only charting her own path but also paving the road for other directors to follow and get exposure. As such Taviani ideated and is the artistic director of SalinaDocFest – an international documentary festival, that after reading the above – you can easily appreciate why it takes place on the island of Salina. I’d love to go back and attend the festival this coming September. We’ll see. But for now, I leave you with a wonderful interview i-Italy.org has recently conducted with Giovanna Taviani.

And as always, don’t take my word for it make it your own experience.

As Italy celebrates its 150th year of unification (aka Risoregimento) this year, the Lincoln Film Society in New York chose to include this masterpiece by Alessandro Blasetti as part of their current festival: Open Roads: New Italian Cinema. I attended the screening and here are some of my impressions. Carmelo and Rosuzza his wife reunited against the backdrop of Italian Unification events: individual vs. collective story lines.

Blasetti known for other historical epics, takes the opportunity to tell the story of Italy’s unification from a personal point of view of a Sicilian patriot named Carmelo (Giuseppe Gulino) on a mission to reach Garibaldi’s headquarters in Genoa and get his help to rescue Sicily from the occupying Spanish Bourbons and German mercenaries. On his way, Carmelo runs into various Italian characters representing different dialects and views regarding the boiling political climate.

The film predated the Neorealism genre that typically referred to as starting with Roberto Rossellini’s Roma, città aperta - Rome, Open City (1945). However, you can already see the genre’s key ingredients at play: usage of non-professional actors, movie shot on location, and description of social rough realities from a commoner point of view. Stylistically, this film is a far cry from Blasetti's light-hearted 1954 Too Bad She’s Bad – Peccato che sia una Canaglia another precursor. This time, to Italian comedy (Commedia all'italiana) genre that formally started in 1958 with Mario Monicelli's Big Deal on Madonna Street – I Soliti Ignoti. Indeed, an interesting and prescient work evolution.

The camera movement takes a role of inquisitive “embedded journalist-like” that follows the events either as a follower of Carmelo on his journey, but also as an objective spectator of historical events such as the panoramic battlefield scenes. I especially liked the opening scene where you can see a close up behind window bars and then zooming out to reveal the context of a Sicilian village under rough Bourbon occupation - a simple, yet a powerful way to express the state of imprisonment.

The screening followed by panel discussion with Professors Alexander Stille and Stefano Albertini, and director Mario Martone. Here are a few pointers I found interesting:

Director Mario Martone: His film Noi Credevamo – We Believed (2010) was also shown in the festival and provided a modern view of Risoregimento through the personal story of three friends joining activist Giuseppe Mazzini’s political movement (Giovine Italia) and the impact on their lives afterwards. Overall, there are not many films about Italy’s unification. Blasetti in this film is rather unique by explicitly conveying the brutality and physical rough aspects of the period, woven through a personal story. This technique makes the historical event more believable as viewers have tangible “real-life handles” to relate to.

Prof. Albertini: The film is not about Garibaldi, in fact we don’t see him much throughout the film; only the facial reactions of soldiers listening to him speak. With that, Blasetti’s message is simple: The Risoregimento (Italy’s unification) was not about the larger than life leaders, it was about real people, with real stories that despite their cultural differences joined forces. This message of unity is interesting to examine against today’s Italian politics, where the separatist Northern League party for example refuses to celebrate the unification and sees it as a waste of money. Another difference, back in the 60’s Italians did not celebrate unification with flags, as it was frowned upon as radical, whereas in this year's celebrations flags were widely used.

Prof. Stille: Blasetti’s technique keeping Garibaldi’s role at a distance and focusing more on people around him processing his impact, was similarly adapted in Francesco Rosi 1962’s Salvatore Giuliano, the famous Sicilian gangster. It forces the viewers to conjure their own opinion about the renowned personality based on the impact of their emotional projection. The film also carries a gender element as Carmelo’s officer commands him not to move from his post to see his wife he hasn’t seen a month just a few miles away. The officer gives as an example Garibaldi who his wife had died, while he was away to reinforce Carmelo’s obedience and patriotism.

So as you can see this masterpiece has dual historical values: getting you introduced to an important chapter in Italy’s history, while at the same time experiencing initial ingredients of Neorealism - a cardinal chapter in Italy’s and the world's cinematic history.

If you think what made Neorealism successful; a genuine blend of non-professional actors, shots on location, themes of social hardships and “objectively” journalistic camera – served to post-war Italian audiences that must have said “yea this is exactly what we’ve gone through!” and then went on garnering a worldwide admiration.

Then, when you think of Soldini’s films (see Days and Clouds – Giorni e nuvole Silvio Soldini – 2007) you may consider him as neorealist too serving similar, yet updated formula customized to the social hardships of the modern man. This time around nobody stole his bicycles, he doesn’t live in a shantytown barely surviving and not caving down under the exploits of the fishing village cartels (feel free to guess films). Authentic capture of the morning after: romanticism vs. realism.

His basic needs are now fully satisfied: a nice apartment (shelter), sophisticated dinners (food), loving partner (personal love), family and friends (social love), and a decent meaningful job (money/esteem). So in essence, now his mind is practically free to wander around and entertain “what ifs” games that gradually turn into love affairs carrying some heavy implications to the above nearly perfect “Maslow needs pyramid” he has diligently built.

This is the context for the rather banal story of Ana (Alba Rohrwacher) and Domenico (Pierfrancesco Favino) each idly orbiting in their own quotidian spheres maintaining their “pyramids” until a meaningless encounter – Domenico serves as catering waiter at Anna’s office event – disrupts this Shangri-La and gradually mushrooms into an affair with real consequences.

Soldini has a great knack for fine details that transform such simple and over told plot into a human believable experience: this woodpecking thought Anna is first experiencing should she make the first step and call Domenico or not, the ensuing multiple attempts to consume their romance each time with another unexpected interruption and throughout the affair the cardinal role the cellphone plays nowadays, at once making the couple closer, but at the same time alienating their betrayed partners.

“What I want more” is the original Italian title for the film where in the US the title was revised to “Come Undone.” Without checking any background info or interviews with the director to learn the exact motive, which I bet most people don’t, I find the original title as an observation of a human hedonistic/selfish preference: “out of these menu life choices, after being stuffed with all the must-haves: food, shelter, and esteem, then being freshly loved is the one dessert item on the menu I really cannot get enough of.”

Whereas the revised title “Come Undone” to me signifies a more conservative observation of immature-undone behavior, or else the protagonists would have realized life is about making compromises where you get what you need from the menu, and not necessarily what you want.

That’s the beauty of films, it’s nice to dig deeper and understand exactly why a certain plot, title or camera angle were selected. But I believe, the purest movie experience is often a personal dialog between the content and the viewer’s own experiences to make it meaningful/less. What you see here is the outcome of my dialog. What’s yours?

With the spirit of experimentalism Antonioni was known for as exhibited in this film that serves part of his existential trilogy – I figured we could try a new post format today. Interested? Well read on. The following paragraphs will all have two common characteristics: 1) they all answer a simple question; what I liked about the film and 2) they’re all in a tweet bite size (140 characters), so any piece you particularly like, you can easily share on Twitter by simple copy & paste.

Ready? So here we go!

#Eclipse opens up in a long scene with minimal dialogs. Only facial expressions and interplay with objects. Sea of human greed and shouts coupled with low-tech you're amazed how this 60's Roman stock exchange functioned at all.

#Eclipse Rare capture of Rome's stock exchange. Greed and havoc mixed with 1 minute silence for a passing member.

#Eclipse Vittoria (Monica Vitti) represents past values, looking for true love. Piero (Allan Dellon) - modern greed.

#Eclipse film shot during period of revolutions students, feminist etc. Antonioni warns against blinded by consumerism. Riccardo (Francisco Rabal) and Vittoria (Monica Vitti) and EUR's menacing Fungo in the background.

#Eclipse outdoors scenes shot in EUR - an upscale Roman neighborhood Mussolini built in 1935 for 42nd World Fair.

#Eclipse Shooting bottom-up the Fungo, mushroom shaped tower in EUR, symbolizes period menacing Cuban atomic crisis.

#Eclipse director uses his signature themes of alienation and miscommunication: kissing through glass, ringing phones.

#Eclipse Piero's car (Lancia Aurelia) same as Roberto in Il Sorpasso drove represent modern world, but with price.

#Eclipse #MonicaVitti is great as she can portray 12 conflicting facial expressions at one glance. Amazing!

#Eclipse funny scene with 3rd flr neighbor that is asked to shoot a balloon Vittoria releases. Quite unreal!

#Eclipse Vittoria's mother (Lilla Brignone) represents even such old family institution falls victim to modern avarice.

#Eclipse Antonioni is director of images not words. His notable #FinalScene is a collage of artificial objects no words.

#Eclipse #FinalScene vacant streets, outwardly close-ups, clean architectural, shapes, blinding lamp = apocalyptic.

#Eclipse #FinalScene nature wins: water rivulets, wind turning leaves, and darkening skies.

#Eclipse with this hot tweet-size format are we fulfilling Antonioni's prophecy of over communicating and not at all?

Labeled as the first Italian road trip movie and hallmark of the Italian comedy (Commedia all’italiana) genre, director Dino Risi provides an alarming prophecy for the future of Italy during the prosperous early 60’s of what is typically referred to as the Italian Economic Miracle (Boom Economico). This is Italy after WWII that experienced a rush of economic growth that is characterized by increased consumerism and self-indulgence – a far cry from the agricultural society from which it sprung. An excellent study of opposite facial expressions.

Risi uses short fast scenes to tell the road trip story of two opposites: Bruno (Vittorio Gassman), cunning, ball of energy drifter; and Roberto (Jean-Louis Trintignant), a timid law student. Bruno represents the new modern Italy that seeks risky shortcuts to success whereas Roberto offers Italy's past view of hard-working path towards achieving a prescribed middle class lifestyle, such as the portrayal of Roberto's boring attorney uncle.

The original trailer with the catchy theme songThe film is full of gags supported by a light soundtrack to match, boasting some of Italy’s greatest pop hits of the period: "Saint Tropez Twist" by Peppino di Capri, Quando, Quando, Quando (in above video trailer) performed by Emilio Pericoli, "Guarda come dondolo" and "Pinne Fucili ed Occhiali" by Edoardo Vianello and "Vecchio frac" by Domenico Modugno. From this aspect, it offers an authentic mirror to the period’s mores, lifestyles, and aspirations.

In this context, the B24 1958's Lancia Aurelia, a tiny convertible sports car Bruno is driving is inline with his speedy personality, his fast-talking style and the endless use of the horn every time he prepares to overtake another car or when he arrives at a new destination. This element is extenuated further in the race scene between the Lancia Aurelia and a Fiat 500: new vs. past; fast luxury vs. functional transport.

The story takes place during Ferragosto (traditional Italian holiday celebrated on August 15), where Rome is vacated from its residents (see similar contemporary film during this time of year: Mid-August Lunch – Pranzo di ferragosto by Gianni Di Gregorio – 2008). The pair is driving on Via Aurelia, an ancient road that like the scenic U.S. Route 101 in California - represents a sort of escapism from urban Rome.

As you watch this film through today’s lenses think about what was the outcome of Risi’s prophecy for Italy? Was he right? And also, what other modern phenomenon it may sound the alarm for?

When you think about what makes a film a masterpiece, beyond the usual suspects like clever script, believable acting or memorable soundtrack – what I believe worked extremely well for post-war Italian cinema is the historical context. For the neorealism genre it supplied ample stories of hardships told by non-professional actors in actual locations with uncompromised honesty.

The keepers of the family precious honor - strolling.

This film, which is part of the Italian Comedy genre (commedia all’italiana), a term coined after Pietro Germi’s two years earlier gem - Divorce Italian Style – Divorzio all’italana, also benefited from three “historical constraints.” The first, the absence of divorce laws in Italy, which arrived only ten years later with a 60-40 majority vote; the second, an ancient Italian statue that absolved a rapist if he marries his victim; and third, the importance of protecting the family honor no matter what in a fairly conservative Sicilian society of early 60’s.

These opposing constraints produced colossal “plot fireworks” when Germi threw in the sordid event of a sixteen years old girl that was “seduced and abandoned” - most likely inspired by a jargon title used in similar news stories at the time.

Germi utilizes these solid foundations to ironically criticize the social, religious and political conditions of a society undergoing massive changes during Italy’s Economic Boom (aka Boom economico) of early 60’s. Against the backdrop of economic growth and prosperity of the north, Sicily is portrayed as a backwards society with its own rules and social mechanics designed to protect the family honor.

Germi intentionally creates his characters as grotesque, at times violent, delivering double standards to produce the genre’s core formula: comedy mixed with bitter criticism of real social problems. From this angle you can trace down the origin of Italian comedy emanating from Neorealism documentary roots, evidenced even with a simple close-up study of locals’ authentic faces gathering in the piazza.

The film brings together an amazing cast with some of the main characters leveraging their Sicilian roots: the volcanic performance of Don Vincenzo Ascalone played by Saro Urzì who was born in Catania, the sissy brother Antonio Ascalone – (Lando Buzzanca) and the scoundrel Peppino Califano (Aldo Puglisi) – both actors born in Palermo.

And beautiful Stefania Sandrelli plays Agnese Ascalone as the innocent girl turned hysterical due to her placement right in the eye of the storm threatening the family honor. From this perspective, honor is perhaps the most important character of the film. Ever so fragile, underscoring the clear boundaries between the public space presented by the fake shows Don Vincenzo occasionally “broadcasts” to his neighbors, vs. the private space – inside their home where he let loose all his rage. Always shutting doors first to make sure the dirty laundry is only washed in complete privacy.

The film was shot in quaint town of Sciacca on the southwestern coast of Sicily, where its white alleys perfectly extenuated the actors' black costumes. This binary color template works as another ironic layer since the reality presented is far from black and white carrying many shades of grays.

One of the film’s funniest quotes that reveals the absurd logic Germi uses to eloquently criticize social mores, comes from Peppino Califano who even though committed the sin, doesn’t want to marry Agnese because she’s not virgin and his rationale is:

"It’s a man’s right to ask and a woman duty to refuse."

And just so you don’t get the wrong impression, Italian society has dramatically changed since this film was released in 1964. According to the most recent statistics done in 2008, more than 84,000 out of Italy’s 60 million residents were separated and 54,000 divorced with a 4% increase annually. It used to be 12,000 thirty years ago. Part of the reason is economical as divorce cost became more affordable and changes in social dynamics, judging by a recent divorce fair held in Milan to address the needs of this growing cottage industry.

First time’s a charm may be an old cliché, but there is something fresh and original to creating something for the first time that is clean from preconceptions and risk of repetitions. Not always. Yet, this charmingly sensitive film, which marks the debut of Gianni Di Gregorio as a director, represents one of the pleasant surprises. In fact, Di Gregorio won the 2009 David di Donatello Award for Best New Director (Migliore Regista Esordiente). And this is important as prior to this film, Di Gregorio typically served as an actor and writer collaborating with Director Matteo Garrone on notable films such as 2004 First Love and 2008 Gomorrah.

The story takes us to mid-summer scalding hot Rome, vacant from its residents that are out of town for the annual Ferragosto holiday vacation. The town is left with either old people or relatives that are looking for last moment arrangements for their old family members before escaping.

Di Gregorio plays Gianni, a mid-lifer who lives with his 93 old demanding mother or what in Italian is known as mammone, with no prospects and piling up bills. When the landlord stops by to collect the late rent, this sour lemon appears to turn quickly into lemonade. The deal is simple: the landlord will forget the rent and throw in some expenses cash if Gianni will take care of the landlord’s mother and aunt, while he leaves town in a convertible full of food delicacies, including a young lover. Gianni and his guests.

Gianni reluctantly takes up the offer to ease up his debt burden and from then on becomes the cook and care taker of five old ladies (their first time acting gig!) each carrying her own and often conflicting agenda. This opens up on one hand a stream of comic relief moments, but at the same time sheds light on the dour life of the elderly. From this perspective it reminded me of an early masterpiece from the Neorealism genre that dealt with same issue, but from a more dramatic angle: Vittorio De Sica’s 1952 Umberto D., dedicated to his father.

The film also offers a tempting display of fine Italian cuisine dishes Gianni constantly produces to care for his guests. So be sure to watch the film after having sufficient nutrients.

Suso Cecchi D’Amico

Suso Cecchi D'Amico was one of the early pioneers who set the foundations for Italian cinema. She started her career right after World War II and played a key role in what is known as Neorealism genre and in the 60's as part of Age & Scarpelliinvented commedia all'italiana (Italian-style comedy).

Some of her most notable screenplays include these masterpieces:

Bicycle Thieves – Ladri di biciclette (Vittorio De Sica – 1948)

The Leopard - Il gattopardo (Luchino Visconti- 1963)

Too Bad She’s Bad – Peccato che sia una Canaglia (Alessandro Blasetti – 1954)

The Girlfriends – Le Amiche (Michelangelo Antonioni – 1955)

Senso (Luchino Visconti - 1954)

Big Deal on Madonna Street – I Soliti Ignoti (Mario Monicelli – 1958)

Rocco and his Brothers - Rocco e i suoi fratelli (Luchino Visconti – 1960)

Salvatore Giuliano (Francesco Rosi – 1962)

I liked her comment from a 2006 interview:

"If we had as many newspapers and magazines back then as we do now, maybe many of us would have become journalists instead of making films. But there weren’t many papers and making film was inexpensive and we merely wanted to tell our stories about our experiences of that era.”

I found it as support for a basic truth. If you have a passion for something and a great hunger to express it, like water it will find its way out somehow.

Master Conflict: a prostitute was killed in Paolino park in Rome.

Sub-Plots: Police investigation showcases stories of five witnesses that depict how their day started and what they saw when it finishes in Paolino park.

Themed Character: Roman rain that drives characters to seek shelter, triggering transitions to portrayal of the prostitute at different stages of her day before meeting her nocturnal fate.

Paolino Park where all witnesses congregate and the victim - prostitute in the far left.

The above are the building blocks of an Italian cinema masterpiece, written and directed by Bernardo Bertolucci based on a story by Pier Paolo Pasolini. The backdrop story is that Bertolucci has started his career assisting Pasolini in his first feature film Accatone a year earlier. He describes this experience as “witnessing the birth of cinema” as neither Pasolini nor him had any experience making films. All Pasolini wanted was close up angles of the protagonists that should resemble tormented faces of religious saints, sacrificed on the altar as depicted in timeless Tuscan paintings.

In this film you will find the typical Pasolinian themes of the rough life of poor boys on the fringe of society and their struggles to find meaning in a chaotic environment. Pasolini convinced Cinecitta’ executives to allow Betrolucci and Franco Citti to turn his story into screenplay. However by the time the script was ready, Pasolini was completely busy tending to his film Mamma Roma (1962), so luck and ample talent crossed path and the assignment of directing the film was given to 21 year old Bertolucci who had never before directed a full feature film.

In the Criterion’s interview of this disc, Bertolucci confesses to the initial disbelief sentiment the entire set had towards taking orders from a young unknown 21-year old. What I found interesting is that although Bertolucci tried to personalize the film with his signature poetic style of keeping the camera always in movement as it followed the characters’ individual trajectories towards the park crime scene, emphasizing the element of the passing hours as a prosaic manifestation of the ordinary and life-like realism – critics only saw the Pasolinian influence dominating. It tells you a lot about the delicate balance between screenplay and directing style, especially when the story comes from such a powerful source as Pasolini.

The film brings another fine auditory gem; a brooding suspense of the park scenes countered with a jovial jazzy street life – a genuine score by classic composer Piero Piccioni. With that, the film opens up a window to a Pasolinian Rome coined in his signature novel “Ragazzi di vita” of the early 60’s, depicting rough urban realities of adolescents at the lowest social rung: the faces, the fashion, the accents, the architecture, the cars, and yes the music that paints it all with a rich depth.

You will find the story structure following Akira Kurosawa’s Rashômon (1950), where a master scene is being reflected by myriad of point views, in this case of the five eye witnesses, each revealing another layer that was not visible through the others.

Think about the next time you read the paper about the latest crime scoop, which serves as the only valid conclusion but what caused it often carries multiple conflicting agendas, which validates once again that the truth is indeed in the eye of the beholder.

I was looking forward to this event to be able to have unmediated impressions in real time about one of the most important directors in Italian cinema who started his career in 1965, while living in London with a remarkable masterpiece: I pugni in tasca - Fists in the Pocket.

I came early to get a close seat in the first rows. I am surrounded with young film students in their early twenties that are busy texting and convivially chatting away. In the back are sitting some older folks with serious expressions. Photographers are everywhere with their cameras at the ready, which builds up a tension as if a spaceship from Mars is about to land any second.

With the customary 15 minutes delay, Debora Young, the Festival director opens up with a few words of introduction after which Maestro Bellocchio is ushered onto the stage that in instant becomes a focal point of million camera flashes. Master class with Marco Bellocchio.

Interviewing Bellocchio is Dan Fainaru (Internal Communications) that poses wide range of questions about various milestones in his rich career. No English translation is provided, so I am glad all these years of Saturday Italian classes are effectively kicking in. Here are some insights I found the most interesting:

Cinematic approach taken by young students: Bellocchio sees today’s young film students as very proficient in mastering the technical aspects of producing an effective soundtrack or solid camera angles, giving an example of the other day’s Short films shown or a typical reality TV shows that generated an audience-wide jeer. What they most lack of is a good script and a credible recital. He points out that in the Neorealism period, non-professional actors although used banal dialogs, they were extremely genuine as they reflected real people telling their own stories in their natural habitat.

Dubbing: Bellocchio outlines two stages in the evolution of dubbing (i.e., use of professional voiceover artists instead of the actors’ own voice): 1) when he started out back in 1965 it was a common practice. In the case of I pugni in tasca (Fists in the Pocket), it was rather a necessity as Lou Castel, the lead actor did not speak Italian fluently. He also gave an example of many directors including Fellini that shot scenes with complete dialogs only to change them entirely at the dubbing stage. 2) Around the 80’s he ditched dubbing, as it has become outdated practice no one considered valid anymore.

Italian Cinema today: Bellocchio teaches classes in directorship and screenplay writing. Regarding global cinema, he points out that even back in the 50’s 3D movies were popular, they disappeared and now are back in vogue, referring to the other day’s opening of Toy Story 3 in the Teatro Greco (Greek Theater). He didn’t say it explicitly but I found it as an acknowledgment that these are all technology muscles, but with no soul. As for Italian cinema, he confessed that classic Italian cinema, namely Neorrealism, had to its advantage extremely tough economic post-war conditions as backdrop, which enabled to tell much more believable stories about human poverty, loss of job and other survival challenges. With the help of an audience member sitting at the front row he summed up a common quote that aptly summed up the current thinking:

“Italian cinema today is inferior to the sum of its parts”

I do hope we won’t need another war to improve quality, as I believe there are great contemporary gems from Tornatore, Ozpetek, Salvatores, Sorrentino, Solidini and many others that brought forward new directions and perspectives in tune with the times. That said, it was a bit unsettling when I stopped at a local DVD store and the only titles for sale were American blockbusters. It could be a coincidence or cold business sense but still telling.

Just arrived yesterday to charming Taormina, aptly named because it’s perched royally on mount Tauro overlooking mount Etna. The town is not packed as I was initially afraid of but contains a healthy dose of tourists that happily savor the holy trinity: pasta-espresso-ice cream.

I decided to kick off the festival with the short films contest sponsored by New Italian Cinema Events (N.I.C.E), showcasing Sicilian cinema as an optimal way to get the local cultural sensibilities.

Here are some of my favorites, which illustrates that a rich story can easily be captured under 12 minutes:

Sunnyside (Ivano Fachin - 6') The film, shot in black and white depicts the grim daily grind of a corporate rat in… Manhattan (!?). I was hoping to see the Sicilian version… regardless the film is able to bring about a sense of daily work routine by using repetitive activities of the actor; drinking coffee, typing away in his office etc. with no heard dialogs - only intimate guitar soundtrack that shares space with the sounds of the big city. When the protagonist decides one day to wear a red clown nose firing smiles wherever he goes the people seem initially not to respond. It’s only when he gives up on this “be happy” strategy that reality changes but without him noticing. Think about it the next time you wait for an email reply that hasn’t arrived just yet. It’s just that people have other agendas and most likely it is not personal.

The Tomato - Il Pomodoro (Alessio Angelico - 9') If the previous film dealt with the grim side of life, this film literally lit up the screening room due to its comic and clever screenplay. Using a tried-and-true plot strategy of marrying unlikely combinations: a tomato falls out of the grocery bag of a light switch salesman, a seemingly trivial event, gets mushroomed into a Kafkian tail of bureaucratic nightmare. The poor guy needs to fill out official applications to remove the tomato from his doorstep as if it’s a public hazard. Inspectors are coming and measuring the shriveling tomato that by the day loses its original maturity when dropped, thus creating a vicious cycle of comic parody. I liked the choice of the tomato, as the object of contention, that on one hand puts the film on a sci-fi mode of an Italian society that like the sacred cows of India – evolved into complete veneration of the tomato with dead serious processes and at the same time the immense ridicule seeing it though realistic eyes.

Rec Stop Play (Emanuele Pisano - 11') The film weaves together 4 stories: a father tending to his comatose child, a prisoner on parole receiving love letters from a customer in a launderette where she works, a casual dialog of two passersby and a common thread of a guy that records all these dialogs only to play them back to a puppet in his garden. The message at the end of the film states: “communication conquers all barriers.” I saw a different Pirandellian message: what you see is never what it seems. Especially since the plotline uses brief shots to conjure specific assumptions and then reveal the opposite intent.

Self-Portrait - Autoritratto (Antonio Emanuele - 8') A frustrated painter is experiencing a radical case of creative bloc to the point his girlfriend leaves him and he’s left alone with a blank canvas that is mockingly staring at him in his shabby apartment. The photography and the facial expressions of the struggling actor that tries variety of tactics to compel the canvas into obedience – turns the canvas into a relentless adversary. It sure made me think about how hard sometimes the first stroke could be, carrying this imaginary heavy weight of self-criticism, where in fact all you need is really to take the plunge and let your first idea lead you to the second, third and Nth ideas that typically just hide under that blank page. Ideas are like a social network in your brain and can easily get viral, you just need to post the first comment...

June 10-12 starts the famousTaormina Film Fest. Antonioni's L'avventura (The Adventure - 1960) was shot there. If you have other plans for the summer, cafe Pellicola can really take you there now...

Ready? To start your journey in Taormina, simply follow these instructions:

TO LAUNCH: Click on icon on upper right corner of the image below, for a full screen view.

TO TURN: Hold down your mouse and drag around for 360 view.

TO EXPLORE STREETS: Click on white arrows that appear on main roads.

TO ZOOM IN: Double click on objects of interest.

TO RETURN: Hit Esc when you had enough and are ready to be catapulted back home.

Enjoy and let us know how did it go.

View My Saved Places in a larger map.

This Oscar-winning masterpiece was originally titled “La Bella Confusione” (The Nice Confusion) and was made in six months against the backdrop of the early 60’s Economic Miracle (Boom Economico) in which Italy experienced substantial economic growth. This period of prosperity on one hand also added confusion and identity crisis as Italian society transformed from agricultural to industrial focus with heavy consumerism. Fellini explored this transition from old family values to the shallow modern indulgence three years earlier in another Oscar winner - La Dolce Vita –The Good Life  (1960). Luisa Anselmi played by Anouk Aimée.

Some interpretations for the title 81/2 includes the number of episodes of the film or number of films Fellini did until that point, with the "1/2" representing his co-direction with Alberto Lattuada of Luci del Varietà –Variety Lights (1950).

Counter to the Neorealism genre that focused on external themes in a documentary fashion using real locations, non-professional actors and post-war social issues of poverty and survival, Fellini transformed this view from the objective to the subjective. This film attempts to uncover the internal and subjective workings of an individual mind. In this case, Guido Anselmi's, interpreted beautifully by Marcello Mastroianni, a famous film director experiencing creative block. A lot has been written about Mastroianni, in essence, playing Fellini’s alter ego, which in that sense lends the film to be an autobiographical representation of Fellini’s personal world as a director.

Such world also known as “Fellinian” is characterized with a surreal almost fantastic ambiance of a circus, with multiple exaggerated characters operating in grand spectacles contexts. The film brings together scenes coming out from Guido’s mind showcasing people he knew in an effort to capture that big idea for the film. But then cutting to scenes taking place in the present that add reality-pressure in the form of anxious producer, wife, lover, actors – who are all trying to negotiate their wants from the struggling director.

You can easily see how this work influenced many filmmakers; some of Woody Allen’s films that mix fantasy and reality as the director brings actual dialogs taken from his life as part of making a movie. The result is a personal movie within a movie or as Seinfeld TV series aptly coined “show about nothing.” But as we all know that “nothing” is in fact “rich something” - a realistic representation of life itself where things never work as we want them to or seem as they are. From this respect, we see that Fellini was directly influenced by ideas from 1934 Italian Literature Nobel laureat, Luigi Pirandello, also discussed in a recent review of Kaos (Paolo and Vittorio Taviani -1984).

Other worth noting elements includes the recurring implicit shtick Guido employs throughout the film, touching his nose, which in Italian signifies “The big Liar” motif. True, a film is in fact a made up story and in the case of Fellini serves as a signature style effectively captured in a 2002 documentary about Fellini’s work: “Federico Fellini: I'm a Big Liar" by Damian Pettigrew. A similar shtick we also see in Mastroianni’s recurring tick sound in Pietro Germi’s classic Divorzio all'italiana - Divorce Italian Style (1961).

I especially liked the interpretation of Luisa, Guido’ wife played by French actress, Anouk Aimée, which Fellini already included in La Dolce Vita. Her bookish style with black-framed spectacles and the eternal in-mouth cigarette signifying her disturbed alertness to the shenanigans Guido cooks up. Such turbulence rocks their relationship with a parade of on-set lovers and borrowing some of their real-life intense arguments into dialogs for his movie.

And I cannot ignore another signature soundtrack by all-time Fellini’s collaborator, Nino Rota that completes this work with a musical gem to support the carnival atmosphere where fantasy and reality blend into a colorful parade of characters and meanings, even though the film is in black and white...

With a mysteriously enchanting soundtrack by Nicola Piovani and a black raven donned with a chiming bell flying over the timeless medieval villages perched defiantly on the mountains of Girgenti on the southern coast of Sicily – the brothers Taviani weave together five tales based on novels by 1934 Nobel prize in Literature laureate, Luigi Pirandello.

The film is titled Kaos as it’s the birthplace of Pirandello in this region. The opening quote reveals its seeming duality:

“…Io dunque son figlio del Caos; e non allegoricamente, ma in giusta realtà, perché son nato in una nostra campagna, che trovasi presso ad un intricato bosco, denominato, in forma dialettale, Càvusu dagli abitanti di Girgenti: corruzione dialettale del genuino e antico vocabolo greco Kàos."

“…Therefore I am son of Chaos; and not allegorically but in true reality because I was born in the countryside, located nearby entangled woods named Càvusu by the inhabitants of Girgenti dialectal: corruption of the genuine and antique Greek name Kàos.”

-Luigi Pirandello

This statement clearly encapsulates Pirandello’s writing style that is also apparent in the film’s five tales showing how the lines between fantasy and reality often blur; words are worthless and reality can be false or true. It all boils down to how different people process information differently.  And this information could be textual or visual as each one of us carries his own “survival baggage” of experiences and memories to make quick assessment of the reality in front of us.

Since the film is long (182 minutes), I recommend watching it in installments, savoring each tale to its maximum quality. Franco and Ciccio in the third tale: “La Giara – The Jar”

I especially liked the third tale “La Giara – The Jar” which brings an air of classic fable with a comic flair by leveraging Italy’s epic duo Franco and Ciccio. Human greed and power are downplayed in two ways: Don Lolò (Ciccio Ingrassia) acknowledges life’s misleading aspects as he laments about a poor peasant boy passing by with a huge load on his back:

"Look at that kid. He doesn't have anything, yet he still has 60 years of life ahead of  him. And I who have all this, how many years left might I have 15, 20..."

And to underscore this point the role of Zi' Dima (Franco Franchi) shows us how human shrewdness can overcome Don Lolò’s on paper great resources and power. The Pirandellian message is clear: never believe what you see.  It’s up to you to interpret the situation and find your way to meet your truth. And with such a fine message, I wish you all a happy and prosperous new year!

It’s a story told many times of a family that leaves home to find a better life elsewhere.  In this masterpiece Visconti overlays this basic premise in Italy of the Economic Boom of early 60’s, the cultural dissonant emerging from a Southern family from Lucania trying to assimilate in big city Milan, and above all the elasticity of the “family unity” concept. Brotherly showdown.

Why elasticity? The movie is broken into chapters where Visconti can comfortably switch gears and examine the developing plot from the perspective of each of the five Parondi’s brothers. Vincenzo (Spiros Focás) the big brother that arrives first to Milan quickly marries a local girl Ginetta (Claudia Cardinale) has two kids and buttresses himself around his new family. Then there is Simone (Renato Salvatori) who starts as a loving brother but turns into an opportunistic animal that overrides the family unity as he spirals down. In Ciro (Max Cartier), Visconti finds the true future of Italy, the only brother who finished school, works as technician at Alfa Romeo factory and about to get married. From Ciro’s perspective, Simone’s transgressions merit exclusion from the family as they’re contrasted with his beliefs of responsibility and family values.

And then we see Rocco (Alain Delon), the saint brother that can sacrifice his own love for a girl and give her to his brother Simone who needs it more. But that’s not enough, he is willing to support family unity even when the plot takes tragic turns. For him, you need to help your brother no matter what sin they committed, which is an interesting question. How far would you go?

Lucca (Rocco Vidolazzi), is the youngest and offers the innocent view as he’s being shuttled from brother to brother, running their errands and supporting their wants. Lucca is another stroke about the promising future, where kids are shown in ending scenes such as in Roma citta’ aperta - Rome Open City (Roberto Rossellini -1945).

The original trailer

And finally there is Rosaria (Katina Paxinou), another “rock of unity” - the mother who functions as the ambitious engine behind all brothers. It was she who wanted to leave their hometown and seek better futures for her sons. She’s all about emotions and endless care for their well beings. I especially liked the morning scene when she’s urging her sons to wake up, have their breakfast, and find a job - go conquer Milan. You may find this timeless maternal care in parallel morning scenes in Il Posto – The Job (Ermanno Olmi – 1961) and even The Bicycle Thief – Ladri di biciclette (Vittorio Di Sica -1948).

In today’s fast-pace globalized economies, the classic family structure is being broken forever as family members are scattered all around the world in search for the same dreams the Parondi’s family was after. Yes, we have reunions every once in a while, we even Skype, but you and your brothers or sisters are now feeding from an ancient well that once has been ripe with live gushing waters and is now being replaced with a trickle of premeditated niceties.

Have you ever been impressed by someone's accomplishment and rationalized it by instinctively pulling out the usual excuses such as oh that most likely took lots of experience, money, contacts and anything else that you can come up with to sooth your ego and inaction?

The reality is that we're all doing it all the time without stopping to consider the "what if scenario." What if I give it a try and that could be anything; leveraging your passion for gadgetry and attempting to write a techno-mystery novel, sending your resume to a long shot position, opening a gallery that specializes in rain forest photography or simply bridging your Italian ancestry and creating your own first movie, say in Sicily. Why not?

And if you take a look at the title above, you'll find three people that actually managed to simply DO IT.

The story behind the making of this film is quite extraordinary and almost overshadows the actual story of the movie. Say your best buddie comes to you and says, remember we saw that catalog of the latest SONY HDV cameras a month ago? Well me and my brother are leaving next week to Italy, actually to a small hill town in Sicily called Lucca-Sicula to get to know better our family roots. Well we figured this could be a good excuse as any to buy these killer cameras and shoot some movie-quality clips now that the technology is available. And by the way we'll be meeting with a few friends there. Don't worry about money, my cousin is giving us a house to stay there for as long as we want - are you in? You betcha!

Since no one has prior experience in film making, first month you all take turns in learning how to use the cameras, some try it as being directors, others as actors. Second month, you all feel pretty much comfortable with the equipment and start shooting with local non-professional actors loosely based on Sicilian gags your cousin's friends keep telling you every evening over pasta, local wine, and old Sicilian songs. And since you're in Italy why not shoot in Italian peppered with some of these charming old tunes that by now you can't get out of your head? It sure adds some authenticity, right? This is at least my interpretation of how this film was made based on information the directors share here. Orange break.

Needless to say the result received amazing feedbacks including awards, which clearly proves a simple truth. It all boils down to a solid storytelling, fun characters and triple dose of authenticity represented in this case, by usage of Italian-speaking non professional actors, the beauty of the rolling Sicilian mountains and the timeless heart-warming traditional music to tie it all together.

The film poetically tells the story of an orange thief (Andrea Calabrese) and his simple love for the land and music. He starts initially without the land, but his love to music finally helps him not only get the land, but also friends.

The fact that you most likely haven't heard about this fim before tells the immense challenges any indie film faces today where peer awards are nice but insufficient to break through and gain wide public exposure. I found this film by chance, during my routine checks of the Italian category on Netflix catalog that tends to be either static or tilted more towards horror and peplum genres.

In-line with Independence Day here in the US, I figured it's a good opportunity to deconstruct the concept of independence and throw it against Italian cinema backdrop. You can never know what you'll find. When we speak of independence you can literally place it in wide range of contexts; from emotional, financial, political, to physical. And I am sure I missed others. Yes, there is a place called Independence in CA.

Looking at emotional independence we may ascribe it to being completely over a past romance or in control of a current relationship. In Visconti's White Nights – Le notti bianche (1957), we see how the character of Mario (Marcello Mastroianni) gradually and surely becomes emotionally dependent on Natalia (Maria Schell). Only when Mario acknowledges that Natalia belongs to another, we can start see the transition into emotional independence, or put differently, Mario's rational takes over his emotions. When you actually need to compromise your emotional aspirations and keep them at bay. Similar symptoms we can find in Antonioni's The Outcry - Il Grido (1957), yet with one difference; Aldo's (Steve Cochran) complete emotional dependence on Irma (Alida Valli) is never resolved and drives him into his dramatic fate.

Sometimes financial independence is exchanged for emotional dependence; Cabiria in Fellini's Nights of Cabiria – Le Notti di Cabiria (1957), appears to project both emotional and financial independence, but internally she is extremely vulnerable to the point she puts her heart and money in a scoundrel that robs her out of both. That's not always the case, sometimes financial independence is solid, but through the passage of time, it empties up emotions and turns them backwards into nostalgic flair. The older Toto (Jacques Perrin) in Torantore's Cinema Paradiso (1988) is a big shot director that carries an emotional void to his past - his old village, his mentor, first love and the cinematic masterpieces of his youth that serve as memory milestones of time and places long gone.

Whereas the family structure is missing in older Toto's life, then in Gabriele Muccino's Remember Me My Love – Ricordati di me (2003), we get to see a middle class, financially stable family, where time erodes emotional ties among its members. Each one is on a separate trajectory to find emotional compensation to add meaning to their existence. And like in Cinema Paradiso, searching the past to help the present, Carlo (Fabrizio Bentivoglio) turns to an old flame.

Political independence is also a recurring theme in Italian cinema, from heroic stories of resistance against all odds as depicted in Francesco Rosi's Salvatore Giuliano (1962), Gillo Pontecorvo's The Battle of Algiers - La battaglia di Algeri (1966) or Visconti's The Earth Trembles - La Terra Trema (1948), to name a few. The ingredients include a deprived minority that struggles to better its conditions by being able to control its destiny and well-fare. The battle not always succeeds (La TerraTrema) and involves painful sacrifices in effort to attain an elusive independence.

Movies can attempt to tell a story that might appear as realistic, and authentic. Yes, I can relate to this emotional independence or its lack thereof - it also happened to me. Yet, the way I see it, behind every movie there is a personal story the director is trying to convey. Unfortunately, 99% of the time, we as spectators cannot possibly be exposed to the depth of details that caused the director for example, to pick those particular job candidates in Olmi's The Job - Il Posto (1961), as an expression for his views about work, neorealism and choice of non-professional actors, in this case true job seekers that can easily convey genuine in-context facial and body language. So what we're left with is viewing the movie independently through our personal past experiences or future aspirations - as guides to extract meanings. If there is a nice alignment, we may come out liking the movie, if not then this patchwork of moving images with musical layering - was simply unmoving.

Checking the dictionary, I found this definition:

The state or quality of being independent; freedom from dependence; exemption from reliance on, or control by, others; self-subsistence or maintenance; direction of one's own affairs without interference.

Pretty much covering the usual suspects. Regardless, you know what your independence truly means, that fine balance between being in control and the need to depend on trusted sources in order to form a logical sense of it all.

It’s part of the trio short movies proposed by Per Fiducia, the project already described in the review of Il Premio.

This is an intense shot on reality. When we say the eloquence of silence. He makes the silence speak. Slowly, sweetly, deeply. Black and white, and we are already into a poem. Every single shot is a portrait of truth. It’s amazing the power of these images. We don’t need to speak to be understood if who is watching us can read a little deeper. Sorrentino can really drill through the soul of his characters.

A strong message towards the truth. A kind of, just be yourself. But also a message of being close to others, because anything in life is related to others. The match, with your companions, and the team work. And no matter who they are, young, old, father, friends, they are your team players. You have to trust all of them.

Very interesting the choice of a rugby match, an unusual sport in Italy, that gives the sense of team, of fighting together, where the compact strength of the group is very important.

A masculine message if you want, a message for men. However with no macho input at all. Instead an invitation maybe to reconsider the natural meaning of being a man, from the basic.

The location. A field in the suburbs of a big town. Where we think a strong message of hope is even more needed. And where the ground for simple values could be uncertain as well as more natural at the same time.

The characters. A simple working class family, very sweet and very true. There is this strong tight shred that links the whole thing. The grandma, the father, the mother, the son. What a cute picture. The family, an important value to support and to pursue for mutual benefits of all its components. Family as the first strong starting point for building a good sense of trust towards yourself, the others and the future. It’s a lovely movie, intense and rich. And artistically wonderful. Buona visione.

This short film is part of "Per Fiducia" ("Through Trust"), an ambitious project that unites three award-winning directors Ermanno Olmi, Gabriele Salvatores, and Paolo Sorrentino in cooperation with Intessa Sanpaolo – to answer a simple, yet timely question:

Can movies, as mirrors to reality, change it and give hope, especially in dark moments?

The answer is resounding yes, but "Per Fiducia" ("Through Trust"), a spirit-lifting project that with its three films wants to show the positive values that animates and drives Italy today.

When you think of all the myriad of phenomena we take for granted such as legal contracts, airport baggage checks, surveillance cameras, keys, borders and so on – these are all elements that were invented as a result of a slight “bug” in the human brain that sometimes takes over: the need to “game” the system at the expense of others.

And since most people got hit too many times, the issue of trust has become a well-regarded currency you share with just a few people you absolutely know and have established relationships with. Your best friend asks you can you lend me your car this evening I have an important date? Sure thing! Coming from a stranger – no way! Maral Kinran and Stefania Berselli in a moment of uncertainty.

In this film, director Ermanno Olmi returns to a familiar environment he has already explored in Tickets (Ermanno Olmi, Abbas Kiarostami, Ken Loach - 2005) – the train. The film tells the story of 3 teenagers that ride the train after winning first prize in a science technology contest for a smart, yet fashionable bracelet designed for kids with diabetes.

The contest is over, the temporary rush of winning was great, but what next? The prototype still needs money in order to turn it into a real product. Matteo (Matteo Bessone) ponders deeply this question. His partners, Stefania (Stefania Berselli) and Maral (Maral Kinran) reflect on this as well, as their faces are reflected in the window, superimposed over the moving landscape. Where are we headed? What’s in store for us when we get there?

Trains have been used in many films to portray life line itself. We’re all passengers who share the same train for just a short while. The movement forward indicates the passing time towards an unknown future, where the stations may signify milestones or opportunities along the way.

The chance encounter of the teenagers with the important professor (Maurizio Marchetti), on the train, initially plays out the common distrusts we come across when facing with sudden requests from complete strangers.

In this case, I liked the utter silence that came out from the professor’s collaborator (Marco Constantini). This is Olmi’s at his best. The person who speaks (professor) and shapes the reality is minor to the facial expressions of those that surround him, in this case the collaborator - that processes the verbal exchange and without saying a word, projects an utter distrust. Less is so much more.

The soundtrack with its grand entrance-feel of trumpets keeps reminding us of new beginnings; new ideas by young generations that take place everywhere. They may be delayed here and there due to some temporary setbacks, but they will finally arrive and make their mark.

The film’s universal message is loud and clear. Despite human innate suspicion due to the above described “bug” and occasional superficiality (enter Susan Boyle case), sprinkling a bit of trust around us can go a long way for a far better world.

Try it next time, you’re faced with the instinctive urge to dismiss something as distrustful and not help.

You can view the entire film below (10:15 minutes), and with English subtitles - here:

In tune with the tough economic times these days, the film explores the impact of a job loss on a middle class family in Genoa.

I found this film very interesting, especially when viewed through the prism of The Bicycle Thief (Vittorio De Sica - 1948). Both effectively depict the rigid patriarchal family structure with its concrete male beliefs of serving as the ultimate provider no matter what and the tendency to hide problems from the spouse. In both films we see the husband seeks help from his friends first and the friction it brings when the wife finds out later.

Unlike The Bicycle Thief, where the cause for job loss is the instrument for working (i.e., bicycles), in this film it seems the male pride and stubbornness have a central role as they were the root cause for tensions between the husband (Antonio Albanese) and a new business partner with different perspectives - tensions that mushroomed into a job loss.

The film goes through the dramatic changes that affect the family as they're spiraling down both emotionally and economically, having to leave their posh condo into a small flat, husband working as delivery guy, selling status symbols like their boat and artworks. Margherita Buy plays the wife who sacrifices her career to support the dwindling resources of the family.

From a distance of 60 years, circumstances may be different in Bicycle Thief, but human nature seems to be constant in both films. It's all about lack of communication, dominant male ego that needs to go full circle to realize that at the end, he shouldn't carry a bitter load alone, it's about a couple, a family that unites to face challenges together. And from this togetherness comes hope.

Do you believe dreams can come true?

In this masterpiece, adapted from a Russian short story by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Luchino Visconti provides a resounding yes. Or at least it appears like it.

The film was shot in Cinecitta’ studio 5 where 3 years later Fellini would shoot his incredible La Dolce Vita. The choice for filming on a set to depict industrial city Livorno is not accidental; beyond economic reasons shooting mostly night scenes, the artificial set with its elaborate waterways, alleys and bridges, made to resemble Livorno’s Venice quarter – are all meant to communicate the plot’s core fiction element, a Venice-wanna be.

Such a made up settings is used to support the story of two dreamers: Mario (Marcello Mastroianni) who is wandering lonely through the nights (hence “White Nights); and bumps into Natalia (Maria Schell) that is waiting for another guy (Jean Marais) who promised her to return after one year on the bridge.

There is an excellent photography work here as most of the film is dark and contrasted with Natalia’s angel-like bright face with blond hair. Mario, emotional character, falls deeply in love with Natalia, but can she break her promise to the other guy? He is clearly an enigma with sparse details shared about his name and reasons he had to disappear.

The whole business of waiting for a guy for a year on a bridge sounds crazy to Mario who tries to win Natalia’s heart anyway. At times he almost succeeds, but the anxious call of a mother for her daughter to get back home as it’s late, after a long and pleasant evening in a dance hall – wakes up Natalia in one instance to hurry back to the bridge in case her other guy will show up.

This persistent clinging to a dream for Natalia -- where the use of bridges throughout the film are made to symbolize connection between two lost worlds her present and her future with the other guy when he arrives -- are at the same time bridges of hope for Mario who is a simple guy, could be any Mario, who simply wants to break his loneliness and find companionship.

Hope on the bridge is contrasted with the dark underworld when the prostitute (Clara Calamai also played in Visconti’s Senso) lures Mario to follow her under the bridge. Yet, another two symbols clashing; the brunette prostitute as the devil versus Natalia the innocent blond – as the angel.

The use of windows open with bright light against dark buildings that suddenly close shut to complete full darkness, is also an interesting visual tactic to convey fleeting hopes.  That, and the brooding mysterious soundtrack by maestro Nino Rota provides a foggy dreamlike setting where consequences are constantly looming but you can’t really tell bad or good.

The snow scene under the bridge is one of the most memorable, where the miracle nature of snowfall, serves to further support the fantasy world of the two dreamers and the sheer force in believing that tomorrow indeed will be a great day.

The film also includes insightful behind the scenes interviews with the film's collaborators such as celebrated screenwriter Suso Cecchi d'Amico. Truly a must see!

Ever wondered what started the Oscar for Best Foregin Language Film category? It was Shoeshine, Vittorio De Sica's fifth film that initially received a Special Academy Award in 1948 and two years later for his masterpiece The Bicycle Thief.

Shoeshine is a special film for many reasons. First, it marks the start of one of the most creative collaborations between De Sica and screenwriter Cesare Zavattini. Together they produced some of the best expressions of the Neorealism in Italian cinema with gems such as The Bicycle Thief (1948), Miracle in Milan (1951), and Umberto D (1952).

De Sica is responsible for 34 films and starred in some 150 films, that's how he would typically finance his films. In Shoeshine, we can see a common theme in Neorealism, which is the lost of innocence, specifically of children who are thrown into a rough adult world, accentuated further here where neither support groups - the family or social systems - are available.

Like most films in the Neorealism genre right after WWII, there is an indifferent outside observer camera movement, scenes are shot in long takes on location, themes of lack of human solidarity, collapse of social system deserting the common man, and most importantly the use of non-professional actors.

The inspiration for this film came for De Sica from meeting two shoeshine boys Scimmietta (‘Little Monkey’) and Cappellone (‘Big Hat’) that represented the many kids in the streets of Rome who made their living by polishing shoes of the American soldiers, shouting Sciuscià, a Neopolitan corruption of the English word "shoeshine" used to attract soldiers. These two boys were not selected for the role as De Sica decided they were two ugly. Instead, two other street boys, Franco Interlenghiplaying the mature Pasquale Maggi and Rinaldo Smordoni, playing the younger Giuseppe Filippucci – had their film career debut.

After the success of the film both boys were offered many projects, but whereas Interlenghi’s career flourished with 75 films to his credit, most notably starring in Fellini’s I Vitteloni’s (1953), Somordoni, did another 2 films and then broke away from show biz ending up as public transport worker.

The film obtains its power by clearly illustrating how fragile human relationships are where two boys’ strongest friendship is turned upside down due to vicious turn of events beyond their control. Like life truly is. In this sense, without playing the blame game De Sica shows how bad circumstances can play a huge role in the lives of people in postwar Italy. Italian cities where half destroyed, social systems where barely functioning, so who can condemn children if they opted for stealing, and prison guards for blackmailing? They’re all part of a long food chain that merely tried to survive.

Legendary film critic, Pauline Kael aptly put it:

"It is one of those rare works of art which seem to emerge from the welter of human experience without smoothing away the raw edges, or losing what most movies lose--the sense of confusion and accident in human affairs."

Known as the father of neorealism in Italian cinema, specifically due to his widely acclaimed masterpiece, Rome Open City - Roma, città aperta (1945), in this film director Roberto Rossellini continues his theme of personal human stories embedded in the rough realities of Italy during WWII.

Portraying a common phenomenon at the time by zooming in on a single representative story, Rossellini picks the period right after the September 8th 1943 declaration of the Armistice between Italy and the Allied armed forces who occupied the southern part of the country. During this period of transition, many Italians in the northern parts, still controlled by the Fascists, provided shelter to Allied POWs, even at the clear risk to their lives if caught.

The film tells the story of Esperia (Giovanna Ralli), a black marketeer that hides three soldiers (American, Brit and Russian) in her attic in Nazi occupied Rome. The soldiers develop deep relationships among themselves and their host despite the ongoing communication challenge, undoubtedly to show that helping the other doesn't require much other than good will in the face of hardships.

Helping Esperia in her trying quest, is her boyfriend Renato (Renato Balducci) that continues with his reckless amorous lover portrayal he did two years earlier, in one of the emblematic masterpieces of the Italian comedy genre;  Big Deal on Madonna Street - I Soliti Ignoti (Mario Monicelli – 1958). This typecasting for the sake of comic relief, I find works well here.

The film boasts Rossellini's signature rough black and white color template that reinforces his documentaristic style to convey people and events as they were. In fact, the film opens like a news bulletin with a voice over in English that sets the historical context for the plot.

And like in most Rossellini's films, his brother Renzo Rossellini provides a score that offers a continuous tensed ambiance to support the immense risk Esperia took on herself constantly surrounded by invisible prying eyes that can abruptly compromise her safety and that of the soldiers.

With all the craziness of war around us, I found it still amazing that despite all mankind achievements, the human brain can sometimes be so binarily wired; one or zero, black or white love or hate. I call for realignment.

A seasonal note from cafe Pellicola wishing readers happy holidays.

This cinematic masterpiece was filmed in Rome during the summer of 1942 before the Nazis arrival in October that started the occupation and devastation in the city. That's why Rome in this film looks very clean, normal and tranquil - the serenity before the war storms broke out. Stylistically, the film belongs to the Transitional genre in Italian cinema that occured before the Neorealism. It's considered a melodrama and to some extent a response to the sugar-coated Hollywoodian cinema of that period.

Director Vittorio De Sica tells the story of a well-to-do family in Rome through the eyes of a 5-year old boy (Luciano De Ambrosis) that is torn between the weakness of his mom (Isa Pola) who keeps deserting him for her lover (Adriano Rimoldi)  - and the father (Emilio Cigoli) who tries his best to keep the family together, yet fails miserably time after time. De Sica known for his sensible work with children (Shoeshine - 1946, Bicycle Thieves - 1948) provides a unique glimpse into how a small boy interprets the world of adults that surrounds him. Using low camera angles from the boy's level, all adult characters look more dramatic and menacing. And what the boy sees is mostly weak, cold and egoistical women that let their heart or convenience come first on male figures' expense. The only female protector is his housekeeper, Agnese (Giovanna Cigoli) that truly cares for his well-being.

The film is based on a novel by Cesare Giulio Viola where the story originally revolved around a Sicilian boy instead of Roman. And the boy's name Pricò serves as a fine symbol for the boy's precociousness as he explores the treacherous world of adults around him. The Criterion DVD includes a rare interview with Luciano De Ambrosis who played the boy. From almost 60 years of distance, De Ambrosis provides a remarkable testimonial to the work on the set, work with De Sica and a few observations about his favorite scenes in the movie.

Composer, Renzo Rossellini (brother of famed director Roberto Rossellini) offers a heart-pinching score with loads of emotions that paint vividly the enormous injustices inflicted on the boy, while at the same time uses patches of sounds coming from the reality itself, usually much happier (radio tunes from a neighbor's window), to further depicts the gulf between the sad reality of the family and the parallel normal lives around them.

In this film you will also find De Sica's tremendous human and wanton sensibilities. In some instances you can easily transform characters and contexts into classic paintings, like the singing cook, the boy who dozed off on the hip of hay while his horse marches on.

This technique coupled with his usage of layered mini-activities such as when the boy was brought back by the carabinieri (cops), there are 2 preceding elements of a couple that walks by and another couple on a carriage that passes by in the opposite direction - offer a solid capture of a living and breathing reality where characters and objects are constantly mingling even if they don't have anything to say directly about the scene.

There is also an interesting use of "doors" throughout the film to convey either modes of danger as in the case of the nosy neighbor that keeps peeking around, the lover who comes knocking in, the postman bringing news - and as representation of shelter when Agnese, the housekeeper manages the door opening and closing to fend off all these negative elements from the boy and his father.

The film didn't find success at the time, as the occupation broke out and people where busy surviving. That said, it's a classic time capsule with all the melodramatic trappings, so make sure your handkerchief is handy.

To me this film is a fine example of the power of good storytelling without the need for special effects and pyrotechnics in order to engage audiences. The premise is simple, a lesbian couple returns from a vacation in Tunis and to their great surprise discover a Moroccan guy hidden in their car, with a wish for a better life in Europe. Anna (Maria de Medeiros) the wealthy and more mature decides to help Anis (Mounir Ouadi) against the wish of her young and restless partner, Mara (Antonia Liskova).

From there the plot unfolds revealing rich tapestry of themes ranging from the audacity to offer genuine help to a stranger, cross-cultural differences regarding family values viewed by Anis, conservative vs. liberal tensions as Anna's mother questions the validity of her daughter relationship with Mara. And finally, the pure wish of any person to find "shelter" in an environment that provides support and growth.

Such "shelter" can be interpreted as being a person, in this case Anna, who shelters both Anis and Mara or as a place - Europe, as provider of better opportunities for immigrants. To this effect, throughout the film we see a recurring symbol - a giant chair located at the center of a round traffic intersection, through which the actors pass through in their daily commute. You may call it an environmental sculpture, but in our context this chair serves as constant reminder of the most basic human need of finding comfort - the chair, as a tool for rest and shelter.

The film appeared first in Berlin's Film Festival where director Puccioni immediately found an American distributor, which paved the way to screenings at New York's MOMA to grand enthusiasm by audiences. The fact that no Italian distributor was found at the time meant the film was practically unknown in its own native country. This indeed serves as bold evidence to the challenges facing Italian cinema directors today when trying to bring new films to the public.

Open wide spaces of panoramic desert views, soldiers perched high on their guard in an ancient, semi destructed fortress, waiting for an unseen enemy - the tartars - that for years and years never comes. Despite this inactivity, there is a total obedience to rules and regulations in the face of a non-existent enemy, which at times creates social frictions as one fellow soldier forgets the day's password and get shot by the sentry.

The film brings about a philosophical and I would say timely question, what do you do when you're surrounded by omni-present threat that never materialized to the point when it finally begins to appear in the horizon - its  occurences are automatically hushed down among the troops in order to retain the status quo of inaction.

There are two options: You can acknowledge danger's presence and be prepared when it arrives and act; or you can completely ignore it and sink into bored passivity. The choice presented in this film, is literally keeping a middle ground of watching the horizon, yet ignoring what gradually manifested itself.

Sounds familiar no? A lot like what drove our global economy down these days. The signs for the looming tsunami were there all along, but the watch guards chose to ignore their existence completely and treat them as false mirage.

In this classic masterpiece, director Valerio Zurlini adapted Dino Buzzati's 1940 novel, shot in Iran's Bam enigmatic Citadel, boasting Europe's most famous actors such as Vittorio Gassman, Philippe Noiret, and Jean-Louis Trintignant. The film was produced by Jacques Perrin, you may recognize by his later role as older Toto in 1988 Cinema Paradiso and brought to life by the tense score of maestro Ennio Morricone.

Qualunque imposizione faccia su di noi, egli è servo della Legge e come tale sfugge al giudizio umano -Kafka

Whatever imposition is brought upon us, it is served by the law and as such escapes human judgment -Kafka

Gian Maria Volontè's pounding tirade.

In this Oscar-winning masterpiece by director Elio Petri, a head of homicide department in Rome is testing the boundaries of his authority to override a murder he himself committed. Played by the incredible Gian Maria Volontè, after many roles as the villain in Sergio Leone's Spaghetti Westerns, in this film you'd be amazed by his transformation into an urban mastermind of a murder that no matter how many clues he leaves for his own team to find and outright admissions he makes - his powerful position provides the ultimate shelter.

The film boasts a signature soundtrack by maestro Ennio Morricone, that provides a tense texture with persistent tempo to support on one hand the authoritative police inspector as he toys with his team, the media and even a harmless passerby, and the ongoing investigation - on the other. Interestingly, the rationale for this wry game, as the inspector puts it, is not to mislead his team but to prove his intact above-suspicion status. Above is a fine sample of this classic score.

Worth noting also is the solid delivery of Florinda Bolkan, in the role of Augusta Terzi, the inspector’s lover that can exude both sensual vulnerability, and determination that can easily make cracks in the otherwise bullet-proof power presentation of the inspector, thus bringing him into utter submission. In essence, her role plays a focal point for the whole plot as she constantly populates the inspector’s thoughts, triggering flashbacks to their shared wild relationship.

This photo is a good capture of her intoxicating power over the inspector, pulling him into her web of mind games, teases that leads into a final destruction, while all along using his power as police inspector to supply endless contexts for role-playing the victim vs. the authority:

Such a bold social criticism of corrupted officials you will also find in the earlier work of Francesco Rosi's Hands over the City - Le Mani Sulla Città (1963). You can see even the use of the same imagery as the potent official sitting in his desk with a background map of his jurisdiction:

From Los Angeles Independent Festival in collaboration with the Italian Cultural Institute of Los Angeles.

Great excitement for this movie which is again from and about Sardinia. The fact that the director was there presenting the film and holding the discussion makes it even more interesting.

Sonetaula is a book by Giuseppe Fiorithat he recently re-wrote and shortened. It is set up in a decade between 1938 and 1948 (more or less) in the island of Sardinia, inland, in the shepherd’s most true world.

Sonetaula is the name of our character, in reality a nick name, which means sound of wood, since he was very skinny.

Sonetaula follows the story of many other children in a typical village of Sardinia. He has to help the father to tend his flock, because he has to go to work in a factory in Italy, he would make more money, he said. Poor people, after war, hoping to have a chance to change their lives. However, we will discover that this is not the truth.

Sonetaula is a young boy victim of his culture. In the mountain, in the cold, in the freezing solitude of woods and sheep, one day, founding out that his friends stole one of his sheep he goes and kills 20 of theirs.

It’s a revenge imposed by the shepherd culture, where you have to protect what is yours at all costs and teach others that you are stronger.

This act will mark his life and his future won’t have chances for salvation, unfortunately.Rejected now by a people that is trying to emerge from its millenary absence from the evolution, that is rejecting its archaic pastoral existence rules, Sonetaula is left alone with his life of bandit.

Maybe only 23 or 24 years old, Sonetaula, unable to trust and surrender to justice because too far from his known living codes, he plays his last card making an escape agreement with an ‘important person’, the ingegnere. A person reasonably trusted because of his high social position that, instead, has other interests than saving a poor shepherd life.

This movie has of course the charm of a neorealist movie. They took one year to shoot it, in real places, with real people, I mean non professional actors, and with real seasons, the director says. A photography very effective though, with major technological touches, maybe too many to be authentically neorealist. Nevertheless, valuable for its strong ability to make looks, silences, thoughts, feelings, talk.

However, Salvatore Mereu is not giving his true poetry, like he did in Ballo a Tre Passi. Fair enough, we know he will again.

It's that great excitement you get when you come across a truly rewarding film by a director you have never seen much of his work when everything seems to work exactly how you'd want it to be. And Mafioso by Neorealist director, Alberto Lattuada is simply that perfectly fun film. It's the same sad story, these cinematic gems have limited distribution anywhere and are hard to come by. Unless the film is within the programming roadmap of the great people at The Criterion Collection, which is the case here.

You may have heard about Alberto Lattuda through his collaboration with Federico Fellini on Lights of Variety (Luci del varietà -1950), but his long and widely acclaimed work is known for his unique sensibilities of telling a simple story of the individual without compromise. “A good director is the one that can keep his audience nailed to their seats. Because the moment you see someone leave the room that means the director didn’t do a good job like a scene that went too long…” Said Lattuada in a rare interview in the bonus section of this DVD.

This film brings one of Italy's greatest actors, Alberto Sordi, to tell the story of Nino who has the perfect life – a great job, a wonderful family – who lives in Milan. Simply an ideal poster of the early 60’s when Italy experienced the Economic Miracle (Boom Economico) with massive economic growth, characterized by the transition from relying on agriculture to industrialization.

You might want to think about this industrialization having the same impact as the Internet and the Digital Age of today. In this sense, you can see the portrayal of Nino’s life in Milan almost in the same period prime-time animated series The Jetsons - who lives in a futuristic utopia, using all kinds of gadgetry in their home. The same you find here in a fun scene when Nino is shaving, while at the same time cleaning his shoes – using all kinds of machinery. And like today’s reality shows that bring together two completely opposite characters for us to watch the ricochets – Nino takes his ultra-modern family to visit his family in a small Sicilian village for the first time. The interesting element in this film is Lattuada’s unique style of moving the audience from comedy to drama, from Milan to Sicily to New York and back again. All in a fast-paced plot where every scene, camera angle, and soundtrack is carefully calculated.

The film is augmented by the pounding score of Piero Piccioni, glimpses of which you can sample from the above trailer; on one hand, depicting a man's warm-loving admiration for his family, and his hometown with all the memories and traditions it represents. However flanked by a dramatic score that emphasizes the enigmatic duality of an ordinary life, even robotic to some extent, yet with old storms looming. The sense that what you see isn't always telling. It’s about the concept of displacement and the need to comply with your roots to keep your family safe millions of worlds apart. To that mix, Piccioni adds light swing tunes, specifically in the public space scenes in the village.

The opening and closing scenes vividly show the monstrous industrial machines that create metal objects and pass them along the assembly line. Could it be that this is a metaphor for Nino's personality? Originally crafted in Sicily, passed along to Milan, yet still carries those base Sicilian attributes?

Think about it the next time you’re traveling back to your old hometown. How much of this place contributed to who you are today?

Rejection, alienation, and total abandonment staged in a bleak winter in the Poe valley with constant use of gray landscapes, barren trees, foggish rain and lots of mud all the actors negotiate their way in - provide an apt juxtaposition between the emotional and the physical realities in this masterpiece by Antonioni.

The film tells the story of Aldo (Steve Cochran) a factory worker that after seven years of living with Irma (Alida Valli), having a daughter together, Rosina (Mirna Girardi) - is told the unexpected. With the news of Irma's husband death in Australia, Aldo logically hopes he now can marry Irma, but she instead shutters his world by revealing that she's leaving him for another.

After his honor is completely tarnished in a strong scene at the small village piazza - the most sensitive public domain - Aldo decides to leave with Rosina in search for a new life elsewhere. His road trip with his daughter follows the same patterns found in De Sica's Ladri di biciclette - The Bicycle Thief (1948): constant paternal indifference cracked by fleeting bursts of caring when the well-being of the child is threatened. In the former, the father mind is clouded by the loss of the only instrument needed for making a living, where in the latter - for the loss of the only person he loves.

One of the most rewarding elements of this masterpiece is the soundtrack by Giovanni Fusco. His minimal piano treatments sensibly amplifies the strong premise of Gioavanni's struggle for the unattainable.

I especially liked the scene when the carriage driver who takes Giovanni and Rosina away from the village - stops the horse to look back at the distancing lights of the village. His observation that the seemingly happy lights may mislead as not all their tenants are as happy - is colored by this introspective piano tune that provides further depth to the words and context.

In tempi come questi, la fuga è l'unico mezzo che rimane.

per mantenersi vìvi e continuare a sognare.

In times like these, escape is the only mean available.

for keeping alive and continue dreaming.

- Henry Laborit

This film opens up with this quote to set the stage for a simple truth; sometimes we need to go out of our comfort zones, venture into new environments, take a few steps back – to allow us to evaluate from afar our goals and dreams.

Director Gabriele Salvatores brings together a group of soldiers during world war II that as part of their mission OC (Observation & Communication) found themselves deserted on a Greek island. This “bubble existence” on this Homeric island, sheltering the soldiers from the havocs of war brings the troupe to evaluate their personal priorities and their interests in life. For example, lieutenant Montini is connected back to his painting as he remodeled the local church, piccolo Farina finally finds love with Vassilissa, the local prostitute turned Taverna owner.

The film has three distinct parts: the troupe arrival on the island, life on the island, and the reunion on the island. You may consider this as new experience creation, living the experience and finally fast-forwarding into the future by revisiting the experience many years later. The first part deals with the transition of the troupe from the external world of war and their clear duties in it into second part - the idyllic life on the island where out of being disconnected, the soldiers are left to explore their personal truths. Finally, the last part offers another perspective from the advantage of time passed, about what this experience on the island really meant.

All soldiers provide a brilliant performance reflecting diverse backgrounds of different parts of Italy. This mixed bag of characters offers plenty moments of humor and memorable dialogs that will keep you smiling days after watching. And lastly the film is supported by the enchanting soundtrack by Giancarlo Bigazzi that supports the slow, carefree Mediterranean life on the Island of Oblivion as the soldiers call it. In this sense, the film is both about the essence of escape and at the same time provides escape to viewers following the narrative within the confines of entertainment as an outlet from the mundane. If you're still unconvinced, well the film won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film in 1991.

Trailer

The final scene shows sergente Lorusso sitting accompanied by his now older comrades, turning his head back into an unknown point. I’d say this simple head movement is like looking back into the past, saying we shouldn’t wait a lifetime to do the things we really care about.

Writing about this film, I decided not to talk about the plot, actors, angles, the director personal story-drivers and focus on just one aspect.

The Luce dei miei occhi soundtrack.

More often than not films' soundtracks receive minor exposure, like the drummer who is sitting in the back where the lead-singer - in our context actors and director - receive all the attention. True, masterpieces from masters like Ennio Morricone usually can't be ignored, but overall the trend is real.

Think about it, if you remove the soundtrack from a film, all of a sudden the film becomes a recorded outdoor theater performance. Nothing wrong with that, but it will miss an important channel of communication. As you know the director can deliver her message by non-verbal body language, dialogs, visual angles, smart editing, and finally by music to set a specific tone.

Naturally, a lot of how we associate music to positive or negative plot developments is a result of ongoing learning where composers fulfill our expectations using a consistent vocabulary. In this sense, a tense tempo would support a tense scene and not a light slapstick. And there are always deviations from such mainstream approach if we take for example Pasolini's 1961 Accatone, where seemingly out of place classical music by Bach provides an epic undertone to the violent life of a pimp in Rome's slums.

In this film, sentiments of utter loneliness and melancholy are sensibly delivered through original music by composer Ludovico Einaudi. The haunting score uses minimalist piano pieces layered over occasional mounting violin crescendos - opens up a rich world of expression and depth. No wonder it won best sound track at the 2002 Italian music awards.

Einaudi's signature style, as manifested in several other films, offers "an ambient, meditative and often introspective, drawing on minimalism, world music, and contemporary pop" (source: Wikipedia). In this sense, I believe Einaudi's score is a natural and updated progression to another legendary composer - Giovanni Fusco whose minimalist piano treatments in Antonioni's 1957 The Cry (Il Grido) paints a similar brooding ambiance.

Einaudi-Piccioni successful collaboration has already started in 2000 with Out of This World (Fuori dal mondo). Some of his prominent albums include Divenire (2007; piano, orchestra) and Una Mattina (2004; piano). What a pleasant discovery!

On one hand you can look at this film and say it’s all about men camaraderie in effort to solve an economical problem, and indeed the relationships among the protagonists run the gamut from support, anger, humor, and compassion.

And yet, this film is known as the first to usher the Italian Comedy (Commedia All’Italiana) genre of the late 50’s that lasted until the 70’s. Director Mario Monicelli provides a unique opportunity to see in one film some of the biggest names in Italian cinema; comedian Totò, Vittorio Gassman, Marcello Mastroianni and Claudia Cardinale in a minor role that started her career.

The film combines stylistic choices from the Italian neorealism, postwar film noir in the US and France, packed with a fine dose of comedy of errors. This mixed bag of styles provides the film with a sense of lightness and parody, specifically about Rififi, a French melodrama that was a big hit in those days in Italy.

I especially liked the jazzy soundtrack by Piero Umiliani that supports the plot’s rapid pace as the mastermind scheme to break a safe of a pawnshop in Rome, is “scientifically” planned and then hilariously executed.

Some of the scenes feels almost like a Pink Panther cartoon, as Cosimo (Memmo Carotenuto) attempts to rob a bank, covers his pistol under a newspaper approaches the counter with the barrel showing and asks the clerk “Do you know what’s that?” hoping to alarm the clerk to submit the cash. But surprisingly, the clerk calmly responds by taking the pistol from him and knowingly declaring the pistol’s model number and make. Cosimo with wide-eye shock immediately scurries away.

US Trailer

The film’s title “I Soliti Ignoti” (The Usual Unknowns) derives from a newspaper jargon that describes crimes executed by unknown criminals. The film had a sequel in 1985, named "Big Deal on Madonna Street – 20 years later," directed by Amanzio Todini.

Through the story of Emilio, a young carabiniere sent to a Sardinian village for its military training, the director Pietro Sanna gives us a picture of this culture that seems unchanged over the centuries.

Emilio comes from Emilia Romagna (region in the North of Italy, on the Riviera of Adriatic sea), and the only idea that he has of Sardinia is the hot tourist season during the summertime. However, once in Barbagia, the internal region of Sardinia probably the most remote, Emilio will face a totally different reality: bandits, bloodthirsty revenges, fear, psychological pressure, silence, resignation, mistrust.

This movie is about recalling the attention into a reality that is forgotten or even unknown to the rest of Italy. The Barbagia is renowned to be house to bandits, in the real meaning, since always. At the beginning of 1900 the Italian government sent forces to defeat the banditry, with some success, however without rooting out its culture. Because the banditry in Barbagia, in Sardinia, it’s a culture which derives from its anthropological history. Even if nowadays they are not that popular anymore and they are more threatened, some still exist and operate, because it is in their inner soul, in their ancestral instinct, is like a last attempt to preserve the species.

Furthermore, lifestyle changed very little, especially for those who work in the ship farming, where rules and laws keep ancient codes.

It is the nature, which remains hidden into a wild heart and in the harsh attitude that D.H. Laurence in its Sea and Sardinia book despite their black skirt and their white shirts with puffed sleeves sees the Sardinian man “so beautiful and stupendously masculine!”

“He walks with his hands behind the back, slow, straight, and detached. Wonderful untamable haughtiness… How beautiful the virility is when it finds its own expression!...”

Well, I just wanted to provide a small cultural background to suggest a deeper reading of such a society. However, a crime is a crime. Likely are very rare today.

For your information the director is a carabiniere in real life and is sardo as well. He was nominated for Donatello award 2004 as best new director.

Check my review of Ballo a tre passi, and watch the video to see the typical Sardinian costume, nowadays more rarely used.

I’d like to thank Jane Clark, Special Events Director at the Ossining public Library for her tremendous support without her this program would have never been possible. This film festival is in fact the first to be held in the new library building that has a state-of-the-art screening room facility with optimal viewing conditions. In case you wonder where Ossining, NY is, I google-mapped it for you.

Our next screening is on April 24, 2008 with the masterpiece of Mario Monicelli Big Deal in Madonna Street – I Soliti Ignoti (1958) – a fine example of the Italian Comedy genre (Commedia all’italiana).

If you happen to be in the area, I do hope to see you there. For all our visitors around the world, you’re welcome to join our online post-screening discussion about the film right here on cafe Pellicola.

Known as the father of the Neorealist film movement with his emblematic masterpiece Rome Open City – Roma Citta’ Aperta (1945), Roberto Rossellini in 1950 decides to change direction. Seeing the role of cinema as mirroring a constantly evolving reality, he believes Italy has changed and there is no reason for producing more films about rough realities placed in bombarded cities. Italy in the early 1950’s is going through reconstruction that dramatically affects the fabric of society.

Hence, the rationale for moving away from Neorealism and towards what is known as the psychological human drama that focuses on the individual with themes of alienation, loneliness and more specifically of a woman who suffers. In other words, turning the ordinary story of the individual into the extraordinary. Stromboli is part of this human trilogy that includes Europa 51’ (1952) and Voyage in Italy – Viaggio in Italia (1955). The trilogy is also known as “Ingrid Trilogy” because of the participation of Ingrid Bergman in all three films, a fact that in those days created a huge controversy both in Italy and the United States. It all started when Bergman at the peak of her career wrote a letter to Rossellini:

Dear Mr. Rossellini, I saw your films Open City and Paisan, and enjoyed them very much. If you need a Swedish actress who speaks English very well, who has not forgotten her German, who is not very understandable in French, and who in Italian knows only "ti amo", I am ready to come and make a film with you. Ingrid Bergman (source: Wikipedia)

Shortly after they started working together on Stromboli and becoming a couple, each leaving their spouse and kids. Rossellini at the time was having an affair with Anna Magnani – one of Italy’s leading actresses known for her passionate, down-to-earth roles. As a result Bergman was black listed for 7 years in Hollywood and Rossellini’s film was harshly criticized in Italy that saw this development as breaking a taboo. Interestingly, had this extramarital affair occured in the early 1960's during the indulgent years of La Dolce Vita - reactions would have probably been milder. In this context, the film tells the story of Karin (Ingrid Bergman) that as a way to escape a prisoners’ camp marries a fisherman, Antonio (Mario Vitale) who takes her to his home on the island of Stromboli.

The island is part of the Aeolian islands and is portrayed as an island of hell battered by strong winds and frequent eruptions of a volcano that disrupts the lives of the villagers. Into this reality Karin is brought to live and quickly she finds herself unable to adjust. She sees herself much more sophisticated then the locals and pragmatic as she is, she soon tries to escape the island. The film follows Karin as she gradually sheds off her materialistic and opportunistic views of life facing the punishing forces of nature around her (hence the reason behind the title Stromboli - The land of God - Terra di Dio) – and the need to look for answers within herself instead of outside.

Stories about the common man emphasizing social issues, scenes shot in actual locations, and the use of non-professional actors – are the key ingredients of the Neorealist film movement in postwar Italy, which this film is one of its prominent expressions.

Directed by Vittorio De Sica and adapted for the screen by Cesare Zavattini based loosely on the novel by Luigi Bartolini, the film tells a simple story. A man’s bicycle gets stolen and he looks for it. No wonder De Sica had difficulties financing the film. You might say it’s a film about nothing. Yet, there is so much more.

De Sica vividly paints a reality of dire economic conditions with consistent use of crowds in various contexts; fighting to get a job in the opening scene, in an endless line at the bus station, leaving a stadium, waiting for a piece of bread at the church.

Antonio and his son Bruno are then thrown into an impossible quest of finding the bicycle somewhere around Rome. The father-son relationship throughout this journey is a rare examination of weighing priorities.

You better leave now if you want to catch this train.

If we do a good job for this worldwide company, we’ll be on the gravy train for more projects.

Sorry, for this class the train has already left the station - registration is over.

Thanks, but you’ve just interrupted my train of thoughts.

Trains offer a rich canvas for conveying many human contexts, challenges, disappointments and hopes. So it’s only natural that cinema would utilize this eclectic locomotive in various ways. And indeed, trains and train stations play a highly emotional role in Italian cinema and beyond. The dramatic sense of departure between loved ones towards the unknown future (I Vitelloni, Federico Fellini - 1953), the arrival to a new place and the constant search for the ever-waiting relative (Rocco and his Brothers – Luchino Visconti - 1960) – and many more.

Whereas in most films the train environment appears only in a few scenes to underscore a particular emotional development, then in this film the train is brought front and center and functions as the constant backdrop for the plot throughout the whole film.

Moreover, this film provide a cross-cultural triptych of three prominent directors; Ermanno Olmi (Italy), Abbas Kiarostami (Iran), and Ken Loach (Britain). Each brings his own artistic sensibilities to weave a story with characters riding the train from central Europe to Rome. The beauty of the film is how these characters transition from one story driven by one director to another. For that matter, it’s definitely worth viewing the Behind the Scenes bonus content to appreciate the careful planning that was involved in weaving these three independent plots into one cohesive artwork.

Often trains’ linear nature represent a metaphor for life’s winding rail where each station is another milestone en route to a final destination, that once accomplished nirvana supposedly descends. The same logic is also apparent in this film where Olmi, leveraging his signature style of using present to past flashbacks (see The Enagaged - I Fidanzati – 1963), Kiarostami by creating a somber brooding mood about past events and Loach by planting series of human miscommunications that unravel upon arrival to Rome.

No doubt, trains are vibrant microcosms where ephemeral human stories are produced every day. Think about it the next time you ride the train…

Is Italian cinema dead?

Not by a long shot. Yes, current Italian filmmakers have been facing this incredible challenge of reinventing Italian cinema in the face of its grand history. No matter how you slice it, it could definitely be tough surpassing the Fellinis or the De Sicas of the world. Yet, different times with different audiences call for fresh new perspectives and new cinematic ideas.

And that's exactly why this film by Gabriele Muccino, is such a great delight. It opens a fresh new window to what modern Italy looks like today. In the center of this film is the story of a normal, yet dysfunctional family where the fast pace of modern life erodes the natural family ties. Carlo, the husband (Fabrizio Bentivoglio) is experiencing a midlife crisis, finds his job boring and slowly digresses to reignite an old flame, played beautifully by Monica Bellucci.

If Carlo functions on a slow always-brooding wavelength, Giulia, his wife (Laura Morante) is a ball of fire, always in a hurry, works as a teacher, but thinks her true calling is acting, tries it but always self-doubting herself.

Their kids Valentina (Nicoletta Romanoff), the ultimate teen who is always self-absorbed, (practically glued to her mirror) and on a mission to get into showbiz no matter what it takes. Paolo (Silvio Muccino, the director's real-life brother), her brother, is a confused adolescent that feels like the family loser.

When you tie all these characters together, it seems like they have become so much apart of each other, each gliding in his own orbit as if they're merely strangers renting rooms in the same apartment. In this sense, the director does an excellent job of creating a sense of alienation and discontent.

The plot moves briskly and at times it almost feels like switching TV channels; you start with multiple stories revolving around each character and then keep moving from one story development to the next until a unified development point brings all these sub-plots to conclusion.

The film provides an excellent capture of the dreams, pitfalls and successes of a liberal, middle-class family that always needs to renegotiate its reason for existence. Superb!

A lot has been written about Italy’s prominent, yet controversial film director, poet and journalist Pier Paolo Pasolini. This documentary film by Philo Bregstein offers a rare glimpse into the tumultuous life of Pasolini until his still unresolved murder circumstances in 1975.

Rare, because the film was made six years after Pasolini’s death and so his memory is still fresh in the accounts of the people interviewed, which helps paint a much richer picture about the man, his background, personality, perspectives and the mystery behind his death.

The film showcases interviews with dignitaries such as Italy’s important poet Alberto Moravia that helps us place Pasolini’s in history. Moravia underscores his significance by talking about most poets before Pasolini came from the right and focused on aggrandizing Italy’s rich history. Pasolini was the first poet with left views that lamented the decline of Italian society, especially in the early 60’s where mass consumerism like television, he believed, contaminated the basic virtues of the simple people and their genuine cultures. That’s why Pasolini beyond being openly gay (a scandalous affair in those days), was attracted to the proletarians in the underworld of the Roman borgate. In this sense, Moravia believes Pasolini’s death was simply an accident that derives from his penchant for violent relationships as depicted in his two novels Ragazzi di vita (Boys of Life) and Una vita violenta (A Violent Life).

The film also brings actress Laura Betti (appeared in several of Pasolini’s films) that fought hard with the Italian justice system to find out what exactly happened that night. Her account suggests a reality that perceived Pasolini - because of his radical views and sexual preference – as a public threat and often times used him as scapegoat. He was brought to trial 33 times, yet acquitted every single time.

I especially liked the interview with renowned film director Bernardo Bertolucci that goes back to the early days of their friendship. Pasolini invited Betolucci to be his assistant in his first film Accatone, which tells the hardships of Pasolini’s friends - the boys from the Roman slums, but using his signature heroic ambiance. The way Betolucci tells it both he and Pasolini never had any cinematic experience, so every scene was practically an historic invention in the making. Betolucci poignantly concludes that Pasolini’s murder was probably some kind of crucifixion against a genius, caught in a wrong period. The film aptly ends with the heroic crucifixion scene in Pasolini’s The Gospel According To St. Matthew (1964).

Pasolini was murdered in 1975 by Giuseppe Pelosi, a 17-year-old hustler, which initially confessed for committing the crime. Yet, in 2005 he retracted his confession claiming that he was under threats to his family by three strangers with southern Italian accents who had committed the murder. The investigation was reopened, but then closed alleging the new elements as still insufficient.

And in Pasolini's words:

"The mark which has dominated all my work is this longing for life, this sense of exclusion, which doesn't lessen but augments this love of life." (Interview in documentary, late 1960s)

Where have you been during winter 1946?

Since some of us would likely say - nowhere, here is a time capsule from that period in Rome, right after WW2 is over. The American GI’s are still in town and the people wake up into the rough realities of making a living in a battered economy.

The film is a fine example of a lighter take on the neorealism genre, borrowing from the success of its emblematic predecessor - Roma Citta Aperta by Roberto Rossellini, made a year earlier. In fact, both Marcello Pagliero, the director of this film, and Nando Bruno – both played in Roma Citta Aperta.

The film uses themes of daily hardships in a much lighter tone, illustrating variety of characters that coincide one rainy night in an intricate plot that moves a pearl necklace from hand to hand.

From Andrea Checchi, who contemplates suicide over the departure of his treacherous girlfriend (Marisa Merlini), the struggling typist (Valentina Cortese) who can’t pay her rent and opts to street life, the petty thief with a good heart (Nando Bruno). And the dignified minister who lost his memory and keeps asking everyone “do you recognize me?” played beautifully by Vittorio de Sica. Friendships are formed quickly to navigate the criminal elements the night summons. Only at dawn the picture becomes clearer as things are never like they initially seem. That's where the film extra title comes handy - La Notte Porta Consiglio - The Night Gives Wisdom.

This plot is supported by an endless chain of cigarette-smoking, alcohol/espresso-drinking, you would recognize the theme song composed by maestro Nino Rota. He then reused it in Fellini’s “I Vitelloni.” The music veers from a somber pessimistic flair to a whimsical, comic tone with a promise that no matter what, things will eventually work out fine.

Looking through another prism, with today’s Internet gold rush ignited by twenty something entrepreneurs – this film too was created from nothing by twenty something pioneers with a burning fire to explore the new medium. In fact, this is Pagliero’s first film. It didn’t find major success, but nevertheless it’s a fantastic gem with all the time-specific trappings of people, challenges, culture and Rome before its piazzas were transformed into car garages...

This is the last film of Fellini’s second triliogy that started with La Strada (1954) and Il Bidone (1955). A trilogy dedicated to themes of people living on the margins of society (street dancer, swindler and a prostitute) that despite their rough lives eventually experience radical life change, call it redemption.

In this film, Fellini brings back Cabiria, the prostitute with the heart of gold played beautifully by his wife Giulietta Masina. Fellini has already presented us with the role of Cabiria in his 1952 film The White Sheik. There Cabiria is consoling poor Ivan at the piazza late at night after he lost hope of finding his wife.

After the dismal reviews both critically and in the box office for his previous film Il Bidone (1952), Fellini comes back two years later with the proposal of The Nights of Cabiria and receives the cold shoulder everywhere he turns. Practically, the film is about a life of a prostitute in Rome – a tough sell in 1950’s Italy. The film was eventually produced by the one and only - Dino de Laurentiis.

The film tells the story of Cabiria a Roman prostitute with an intricate personality. On one hand she’s the tough street-smart taking no pimp to manage her affairs, constantly bragging about her independence, owning her own home. On the other, she’s very fragile, naïve and desperately romantic who really wants to change her life.

Throughout the film Fellini shows us how swindlers take advantage of Cabiria; the film opens when she was thrown into the Tiber river after being mugged, and then another shady type named Oscar is fooling her with the illusion of a true love only to rob her of all her life savings.

Interestingly, there is one scene in the film that was just recently added since the church objected to include it in the original release. The scene is known as The Man with the Sack, showing a man with a big sack going from one cave to another, giving out food for the poor residents of these makeshift shelters. The church objection rationale is clear – that should have been the church role.

Another scene, shows Cabiria visiting a sacred place with her friends where they all pay their dues for a chance to be redeemed and have a life changing experience. After the service is over, during which Cabiria was deeply moved – there is a lovely scene where Cabiria and her friends are having a picnic and Cabiria suddenly realizes that nobody has really changed they’re all the same including the cripple who joined them.

Fellini provides us with a clear message about the role of the church that operates as a dream machine or some kind of lottery where you pay a ticket for a chance to win a better life. But as we know odds are slim. Cabiria’s friends accept that logic, but not Cabiria who sees through it all and in a way is asking for a refund.

The primary message of the film is simple, yet powerful. You would think that after Cabiria has been duped so many times, human trust is practically non-existent – she would break down. Yet, Fellini existential and optimistic view, shows us that redemption does not rely on external sources, but is coming from within oneself.

Simply put, YOU control your emotional climate and destination.

I have been waiting for this and the following movie for months. I am thrilled. This is my own root region (partially) and I have the privilege to be in and out of the scene.

Sardinia, where its crystal waters are seen with suspects, and its dark remote caves are a shelter. A land of sheep and shepherd; cardoons and cork oaks, basalt and granite; tough orbace and delicate filigree; slanting eyes and black, thick eyebrows; legend and truth; divinities and saints. Land where everything is elusive and stationary at once. Where people talks with the look. Where the sun doesn’t bring smiles, and the light is in the night.

With this peculiar, unique background Salvatore Mereu, young director, brought to life a little masterpiece of colors, feelings, characters, and sceneries. Clearly inspired to the visionary representation of Fellini, sweetly surrealistic, he fulfills our desire of cinema with no expectations.

Divided into 4 chapters, linked to the 4 seasons, he traces a profile of Sardinian life that is naive and sweet. He’s able to bring out the poetry hidden inside its ancestral tight limits. The Spring, the discovery, when the children run toward the sea for the first time, on those interminable dunes of white sand. The summer, the wonder, when the shepherd meets the love among his remote caves. The autumn, the look back, when the young noun comes back to the village for a wedding that could have been hers. The winter, the dignity, when the old man tries to escape from the unavoidable lonely life of the city through the dream and the kindness of a prostitute.

A movie difficult to follow if you need a traditional plot, but art doesn't need a plot. This is a sweet romantic photo of the hidden poetry of Sardinia.

Since I couldn't find a trailer, this is a piece of real life from the village where my sister lives, Bortigali (area Il Marghine, province Nuoro, Sardegna).

Sunday October 13, 2007 Cinemasud continues its path.

It’s late, I have to hurry. They won’t wait for me. I push my lazy legs pedaling as fast as I can.

I finally arrive after 10 infinite panting minutes. I am breathless, but at the reception everybody is there. Pasquale, Clarissa, Serena, and sweet Victor. Grazie in any case. I hate watching a movie already started. Clarissa after a list of due thanks, introduces the film Tornando a casa (Returning home – like we decided to translate – she says) by Vincenzo Marra, 2001.

A small crew of 3 Neapolitan fishermen and an Algerian is working in Sicily. They sail further though, they expand their Mediterranean territory to the richer waters of Africa, more fish, four times the money. Dangerous clandestine fishing.

While Salvatore, (Sasa’ local nickname) the owner of the boat, and Giovanni, the oldest of the group, are excited to have this chance to make more money Franco, the youngest, is worried and not in favor of this practice. Samir, does not have too many choices. He is a clandestine everywhere. A few more days just to make the money.

The next night is the end of the job. They are shut, they loose the nets, they go back to scoop them up, they break the boat, so they decide to go back to Naples. Back in Naples, they try to settle in the local fishing business. But how can we expect that things would improve in such a movie coming from the old realistic school? Verga taught us, Visconti too.

In Naples (Pozzuoli), the crew is sabotaged by the local mafia who want to control the fishing job putting Sasa’ in big debts, and Rosa, Franco’s wife dies in an accident. Giovanni has to bring his young son to work to help earning money and support the family.

The only way of surviving is to go back to Sicily where they can fish yet not live. And Franco takes the only opportunity to actually leave. A symbolic end. Franco mingling among African clandestine will be sent back to his country, where with no ids or connections, will represent its rescue.

It’s a sad reality. A sad life, away from home and from the family. We wouldn’t even imagine that it still exists today. This movie definitely follows a neo-realistic foundation. It has been compared to La Terra Trema by Luchino Visconti (1948) film about the tragedy of the sea life of fishermen in Sicily – as many of the actors are not even professionals. And they only speak dialect.

Who are these characters today? Sasa’ owner of a boat, could be considered a lucky man – within the environment – however lonely, fishing for all his life, the group-crew is the only real family. Giovanni, old, needs to support his a big family. Franco is young and – with nothing else - has the classic American dream, although his young wife Rosa, is not willing to it.

Samir is a clandestine everywhere, in his country won’t be accepted, and in Italy could be resent back to his country. He has nothing to lose, because he already lost everything, his identity. And this, in the end, would actually result from the sad perspective of Franco a new possibility of life. The last chance.

Cinemasud is now performing at the Museum of Photographic Arts in Balboa Park, San Diego.

A bit about the festival and its goals (description is from the Italian Cinema Sud site).

Cinema Sud, starting its worldwide tour with the screening of the documentary Détour De Seta at the Tribeca Film Festival in New York, has been organized by the Italian Ministry of Foreign Affairs in collaboration with AIP-FilmItalia.

It is an initiative supported by the funds of the programme Italia Internazionale, managed by the Directorate General for European Integration of the Italian Ministry of Foreign Affairs to support the internationalization process of southern Italian regions (Apulia, Basilicata, Calabria, Campania, Sardinia and Sicily).

Cinema Sud is carried out through the widespread activation of the diplomatic-consular network and the Institutes of Culture on the part of the Directorate General for Cultural Promotion and Cooperation.

In accordance with the six southern Italian regions, some films were selected because they were considered particularly significant not only for the promotion of southern Italian territory but also for their innovative contents and the wide range of cultural themes they dwell on.

Cinema Sud sets itself two goals: firstly, the enhancement of southern Italian territory and culture by showing very impressive images also portraying modernity and the changes occurred recently in Italy and in its South, in particular; secondly, the enhancement of Italian Cinema and of a generation of young authors from the South, who have been able to rediscover the new South in recent years, together with its traditions and millenary culture.

For more information, check the program at www.cinemasud.com.

Friday October 11, 2007

Cinemasud discretely opens the doors. At the Museum of Photographic Arts of Balboa Park, we find all the organizers calm yet excited personally welcoming the guests.

Victor and his big smile impossible to miss. Black-dressed, he lost some weight I guess, maybe due to some insomnia and certainly a lot of work. Happy and thrilled ‘the movies are here’ he whispers relieved.

Giuseppe, impeccable, sober, professional. He politely thanks us for coming. Pasquale, friendly and discreet, overlooks the movement from his academic distance. (He is also tall).

Many people I know, we know, from many different networking, Italians and not. Some time spent complimenting, greeting and kissing (the Italian way). People are interested in the movies, and this is why we all came.

It is nice to have the organizers waiting for some latecomers. It’s cute.

The room is actually crowded and we have to hurry for three far seats. Yes, it definitely feels like being in a movie theatre watching Italian films. I think the last one in San Diego was La vita e’ bella. Well, no true, it was the beautiful Nuovomondo di Emanuele Crialese.

Grazie Victor, and everybody.

Here is my impression about the first film shown - My Brother in-law - Mio Cognato (Alessandro Piva - 2003).

Mio cognato has been filmed in Bari, Puglia. The scene starts with the baptism of the son of Toni, ‘o professore’, an excellent interpretation by Sergio Rubini. The scene is strongly colorful but not neat. The place of the party is the empty terrace of a dreary restaurant facing the harbor of Bari. It is typical and tacky at the same time. It’s amazing how the typicality, the simplicity of people could mutate from being picturesque to sad and squalid in a different background. The suburbs of an Italian province, especially from the south, could be really desolate, and so its inhabitants.

However Toni o professore, in its yellow suit, black shirt and square ray-ban is so excessively tacky that could be even charming – at the Tarantino way.

It all starts when the car of Vito, his brother in law, gets stolen during the celebration. Toni is a magician of insurances, in the sense that he has an insurance business where policies if well managed could be very customizable. We don’t even know if the business exists for real, we only know that he is a professional in manipulating car or other insurance contracts. Of course in order to do that in a southern town you need to have the right connections.

Vito, Luigi Lo Cascio, is the young ordinary husband of Toni’s sister. Naïf style, he only wants to find his Opel Corsa, apparently the only thing really important, besides the fact that he was not chosen as the godfather of his nephew. This kind of things could be extremely crucial in the provincial life-style values.

The movie develops its story of small local criminality with Toni who tries to find Vito’s car through his special friends, discovering though that not too many friends are left in his risky relationships.

One night spent among quaint bad characters, improbable as well as real locations like la casa delle luci (the house of lights) a sort of street terrace illuminated like a funfair where all kinds of men spend the night playing ‘la morra’; the kitchen of a restaurant where Toni, waiting for one of his buddies, start preparing some spaghetti al nero di seppia (italian scale of values doesn't change with circumstances); an ambulance-taxi to bring Vito to the emergency, after Toni smashed his nose in a moment of frustration.

It is a pot-pourri of tragic-comic situations and characters very well represented. Funny, excessive, bizarre and typical at the same time. The symbol of lemon that the mafia guys leave as a signature, is cute too.

Unfortunately Toni, o professore, unaware or stubborn to the truth, breaking the rules will bring the poor Vito to die. He was in the end more naïf than his brother-in-law.

The latest film by director Emanuele Crialese (who also did 2002 Respiro) is a fine example of modern Italian cinema at its best - amazing photography, supported by clever screenplay and pounding soundtrack that will keep you relishing the experience days after watching.

The film vividly tells the story of Italian emigration to America through the Mancuso family, traveling from a small village in Sicily aboard a rocky ship, and their screening process on Ellis Island, extenuating the cultural differences of the old world with the rigid, at times preposterous requirements - of the new world. Beyond health exams, immigrants have to go through intelligence tests as ignorance – in the eye of immigration officers - is perceived as another contagious epidemic that needs to be filtered out.

In this Italo-french co-production, the most prominent element is the striking visual photography by Agnès Godard who provides a unique blend of close-up angles and top views textures that offers a remarkably deeper and much richer experience.

I especially liked the scene with a top view of a huge crowd of immigrants, you would think standing all together ready to board a ship, yet gradually this crowd slowly starts to part ways. In an instant, you comprehend that one group is on the ship and the other is in fact still standing on the dock. A phenomenal use of similar texture alignment to convey sensations of achievement by those who made it to the ship and the radical element of departure.

The major cast members you will recognize from 2002 Respiro; The father played beautifully by Salvatore (Vincenzo Amato), and his two sons Angelo (Francesco Casisa) and Pietro (Filippo Pucillo). To this team is added Luce, the English lady played by Charlotte Gainsbourg who Salvatore falls in love with during the voyage.

The film effectively illustrates the sense of confusion, struggle, and grand sacrifice immigrants had to go through in their quest for a better life in America. Interestingly, the director chooses not to show us completely how the immigrants interact with the new world outside, but limits our view to their symbolically perceived vision of America as river of milk. This provides another spectacular top view visual of immigrants swimming in that promised white liquid, each just a tiny blot paddling towards materializing their own dreams in the new world.

Why? Because they - we all deserve it!

In one of the greatest accomplishments of the Neorealist film movement, Vittorio De Sica dedicates this film to his father and effectively captures the grim life of the elderly in post-war Italy.

The film paints a vividly emotional picture of Umberto D. (Carlo Battisti non-proessional actor - a university professor from Florence), an older man in Rome who struggles to pay his landlady debts. His privacy and pride are constantly abused by people who simply don’t care; the ruthless landlady (Lina Gennari) tries to evict him by renovating his room during his absence, former work colleagues politely listen to his problem but then elegantly disappear.

His only support comes from two sources: the housemaid, Maria played beautifully by Maria-Pia Casilio, who tries to help as much as she can considering her precarious situation – upcoming pregnancy from unknown father and unclear job prospects once the landlady finds out.

And then there is Umberto’s dog Flike that functions as the ultimate bastion of support and loyalty throughout his owner’s ordeal. The use of the dog is indeed the director’s radical condemnation to further emphasize the crush of all social systems, the lack of human solidarity and communication where only a dog can provide that unconditional compassion.

Beyond the grim ambience, I found a few whimsical moments that provides interesting time-parallels. Maria, the teenaged housemaid, invents her own SMS service to communicate with her soldier friends. To fill in for the probable cellphone ringtone, we hear the trumpet sound several times throughout the film, that drives Maria running to the window in Umberto’s room, where outside in the piazza, her soldier friends clumsily signal her, while reporting to their unit.

What I took from the film is simple; in our daily quest to conquer the world, human communication and solidarity should take a front seat.

Marco Bellocchio, Italy’s second generation of film directors after WW2, highly influenced by the British cinema, provides in his film debut a counter and radical approach to the bourgeois family values, religion and the Neo-realism movement.

Charged with the director’s autobiographical elements, over the edge acting style and Ennio Morricone’s circular vocal treatments - the film tells the story of a dysfunctional family in a provincial house (director’s grandmother’s house in real-life).

Alessandro, played remarkably by Lou Castelprovides the plot central point from which, using his twisted mind tricks and schemes the personalities of his other family members are revealed.

In various scenes Alessandro waves his palm across his face as if to signal some kind of internal order he religously follows. For the sake of this “order” he plots against his family members and executes his plans with minimal effort nudging victims only with his index finger. In such broad strokes Bellocchio conveys his indictment of Italian bourgeois life. I especially liked the scene when Giulia (Paola Pitagora) who plays the sister, lies idly on her bed staring at the ceiling, then flipping boringly pages in a photo album of relatives’ portraits on her right nightstand, catches a glimpse of a book on her left nightstand and then positioning it vertically, starts reading, while puffing a cigarette that had already been positioned at the edge of the table. This aimless wandering in personal spaces that captures fleeting gratifications only to go back to a constant emptiness – is apparent throughout the film.

Looking at the film as a whole, the film weaves an ambience of tensed uneasiness stretched to the extreme that flanks the secluded life in the province (the pocket) against the boiling aspirations of its young inhabitants (the fists) to the possibilities of the world outside. In this respect, the film is indeed an internal representation of the transition in Italian society of those days.

Rainy dark streets, unfulfilled love, alienated ambience, restless camera movement and mimialistic soundtrack come together here in Michelangelo Antonioni’s first full-length feature film.

With the recent passing of this incredible director that has largely shaped the course of Italian cinema - it is fascinating to go back to the early years and observe the origin of his artistic growth.

Like Antonioni’s future films such as The Girlfriends (1955) and L’avventura (1960), the story revolves around the intricacies of Italy’s upper social class. Paola (Lucia Bosé) is being investigated by Enrico (Ferdinando Sarmi), her jealous industrialist husband about her past life in her native town Ferrara. The story brings together Paola and her former lover Guido (Massimo Girotti) that hide their secret as the investigation progresses.

Antonioni provides two story lines; that of the investigator activity piecing together clues about Paola and her past friends, and the relationship between Paola and Guido that reacts to developments in the investigation. The result is a gradual tension build-up that is characterized by the couple constant fear of being followed. Giovanni Fusco’s minimalistic and at times chaotic sax and piano grim melodies effectively paint these two plot lines into their inevitable crossing.

What I found most interesting is the prominent use of fashion to communicate feelings of alienation and masking. Beyond the incredible costume design work done by Ferdinando Sarmi (also plays Enrico in the film - the only film he ever did!), what specifcally caught my eye was the four different hats Paola wears.

Each as you can see, seems to tell its own story. For example, the tilted hat was used in the elevator scene may hint of the past accident of the couple mutual friend who fell in the elevator tunnel. The flame-like hat with its fiery expression was worn when the couple first discusses their plan to murder Paola’s husband.

Another testament to Antonioni’s phenomenal command of various media vehicles to tell a story.

In this masterpiece classic director Francesco Rositells the story of Salvatore Giuliano, a famous Sicilian gangster that during the mid-40’s collaborated with a Sicilian separatist group, Movement for the Independence of Sicily (MIS), with close ties to the Mafia engaging with small-scale attacks on government and police targets.

Rosi delivers a poignant documentary that whisks viewers back and forth in time – the superiority of Giuliano’s gang over the police (carabinieri) and later depicting his funeral and court sessions. Interestingly enough, Rosi does not provide us with direct first person dialogs from Giuliano, we learn a lot about him through his friends and the results of his actions.

The real villagers of Montelepre – that helped Giuliano - provide a deeper sense of credibility for the narrative, largely because in essence they renact the true events they experienced first hand. A most memorable scene, is the crying women dash towards the carabinieri after learning that their arrested husbands – suspected of collaborating with Giuliano - are about to be transferred to Palermo. The sheer emotional force of this clash that illusrates the immense power of the immediate family circle and the village strong solidarity - is profound.

The film is also about the importance of commuication with its diverse manifestations. We hear Giuliano’s gang whistling on hill tops to alert the arrival of the carabinieri, we hear the village drummer announcing the latest curfew orders, the village women spreading the word about the fate of their husbands, and the court sessions where conflicted interests play out the evidence about the responsibles for the massacre at Portella Della Ginestra.

The soundtrack by Piero Piccioni provides a charged suspense ambience that minimalistically supports the dramatic events that unfold, leaving ample space for the natural sounds and the occasional voice over to carry most of the emotional direction.

Gaspare Pisciotta (Giuliano’s deputy), played skillfully by Frank Wolff (postwar trend of many Italian directors to use American actors), demonstrates the transition of Pisciotta from being Giuliano’s most dedicated right hand into a collaborator with the carabinieri. As the social environment is rapidly evolving with conflicting interests surfacing either by historical events, mafia pressures, bandit alliances, carabinieri, family and community – are constantly pushing protagonists to optimize stances.

I consider this movie a masterpiece. Starting from the photography. The seppia/monocolor gives an impressive touch of visual art. I could spend 5 minutes observing each frame. And every single object, profile, thing, is just perfect. Do you remember when everybody leaves, and Sofia is sitting alone at the messed up table in the kitchen? what a picture. All those things. The cups, the comic-strip, the box where she put the left overs. And when she collect and drinks the leftover caffellatte from the cups. How can you think about some daily gestures like these.

It's like a poem. Ettore Scola through this movie is giving us poetry.

And the setup, un condominio popolare. We don't see anything else, just a building and a courtyard. And still we, spectators, we don't feel contraints, trapped, into these walls. Even almost every scene is indoors. In fact, we feel actually protected.

Summertime and the living is easy…so why not enjoy a summer masterpiece from Lina Wertmüller who started her career as an assistant director in Fellini’s 1962 film 81/2? The film, is by no means your typical summer movie, weaves together issues of sex, politics, male-female, poor-rich, relationships into comedy turned drama.

Swept away by an unusual destiny in the blue sea of August is the full title in Italian. A typical Wertmüller whimsical film-naming style that also got her a Guinness record for another film with 179 characters! Quite long, but it perfectly captures the essence of the sweeping and unexpected dramatic change that occurs in otherwise serene, picture-perfect summer vacation.

Aboard a yacht gliding in the crystal deep blue waters of the Mediterranean, a party of rich people is enjoying the good life. Raffaella (Mariangela Melato), the rich and beautiful lady from the north is driving everybody crazy with her ongoing politics vitriol and her constant bossing around the scruffy Sicilian Gennarino (Giancarlo Giannini), the crewman. If she’s not complaining about the overcooked pasta, the stale coffee she’s demanding poor Gennarino to change his shirt more often when serving her. Pazienza (patience) utters Gennarino after every humiliation as he reluctantly accepts his role.

The chairs are turned when Gennarino and Raffaella are shipwrecked on an inhabited island as Rafellea realizes she needs Gennarino in order to survive. This relationship transformation includes a few violent scenes that Gennarino unleashes to express ages of exploitation done by everything, in his mind Raffaella and the rich represent.

Some critiques found this bold expression of women subjugation over the top; others complimented the courage of the director - especially as a woman - to deal with such delicate gender issues with no shortcuts.

I don't like it either, but I believe this usage of radicality is important because it effectively demonstrates the long road it takes to bring these two world-apart strangers from the realm of the impossible on the yacht to the realm of the possible, yielding a moving love story on the island.

The premise of the film is simple. Within society’s boundaries roles and class differences are clearly defined. However once you place these complete opposite characters outside their comfort zones, these rules don’t apply anymore. Instead it brings out the opportunity to get closer and learn more about our common humanity.

Yet, would that transformation happen if Raffaella were able to take care of herself on the island without Gennarino’s help? My guess is yes. At the end of the day, no matter how materially satiated we are, we all need the human connection.

The mother’s death gathers together the three brothers back to their youth home. Raffaele (Philip Noiret), the oldest, a successful famous judge, from Rome. Nicola (Michele Placido), a blue collar active in the union movement, dealing with his marriage crisis. Rocco, reserved and spontaneous, dedicated to help children in a correctional institute.

Donato, their father, a sweet old man, lined by a peasant life, simple and sincere. He called his boys for their mother’s funeral. So the three of them meet again after a long time in their old family house, where each one has something to recall.

We are in the south of Italy, in a dry flat infinite silent plateau. The house in white lime surrounded by the typical dry-stone walls. The faithful dog follows the old man around the desert courtyard. The windows are closed, because of the mourning. What a charming scene of solitude and sorrow, where feelings come out from things, and not from people. Even when we enter inside the room. The body is exposed to the care of the old black-dressed ladies who slowly and rhythmically repeat the proper litanies, with no interruption and no hesitation. A sound that is a melody, a melody that enchants and invites to indulge in ancient thoughts.

After quickly briefing about their lives, which is just an excuse for the director to introduce the nature of the characters, the three brothers reveal themselves during the night spent in the old large bedroom, with the light on, waiting for the funeral the morning after.

A moment of solitary, common meditation. An opportunity of comparison between who they were and who they are. An occasion of freedom, to face their fears or their wishes. With an awareness that is half way between the oneiric and the real.

But the dream of the father is different, it is the only dream that is about the past, real or not real, it is not important. He is with his young wife on the beach and suddenly, by playing with the sand she loses her wedding ring, Donato promises that they won’t leave without finding it, and the will. They find it. It’s a simple fact. The symbol of their simple love, their simple life. The only really important thing in their life, the promise of their love. How simple things were before.

A strong contrast with the ‘anni di piombo’ the years of terrorism, where young Italians are lost taking a political or a social position, culturally demanded to but intimately unprepared.

Well, the question is – like in the bar – do I have to be part of the social demand or I have to keep thinking about my private life? I don’t find an answer, as usual, but I do think that being part of a social movement, following a political ideal, is often a refuge to those who have lost their personal life track.

The final scene is the best. Donato, the old man, sees his wife’s wedding ring and slips it on his finger, next to his. Despite his loss, he seems relieved to have found himself back on track.

Find yourself wherever you are.

Do you see your friends as sources of support or anxiety?

More often than not, friendships provide us with mirrors through which we can interpret and validate our reality. In this film, Michelangelo Antonioni explores the intricate, at times fragile relationships between four women in Turin. The story is based on a 1949 article published in La Bella Estate ("Tre Donne Sole" by Cesare Pavese), and effectively delivers a classic masterpiece that informs Antonioni’s future works, especially Il Grido and L’avventura.

This psychological drama, loaded with ten characters, long dialogs placed against the backdrop of Turin's rainy streets - tells the story of Cleila (Eleonora Rossi Drago) that comes from Rome to her hometown Turin to start a fashion salon. Next door in her hotel room, Rosetta (Madeleine Fischer) tries to commit suicide and this way draws Cleila into her life and circle of friends.

Antonioni’s has a keen eye for creating what I call accurate reality chunks that do not put actors front and center, but as guests in a living and breathing reality comprised of sub-plots and various other objects that take precedence. For example, the luncheon scene with Cleila and Carlo starts with unrelated patron that complains about his pasta. This independent sub-plot has no direct relevance to the plot, other than to create a richer picture of the place and people. Exquisite!

In this context, the score by Giovanni Fusco delivers a delicate and minimalistic rhythm that brings the friendships stories into a higher level, where it’s easy to identify with and appreciate the human drama.

In this film, Francesco Rosi tells the story of painter Carlo Levi, an anti-fascist activist that was arrested in Turin in 1935 and was sent by Mussolini to the remote town of Gagliano (invented name) - in what is known today as Basilicata.

If you ignore the historical context of this film and focus on the quaint ambiance of a small village in Basilicata, where old customs never changed in the past 3000 years – then you’re in for a remarkable journey into Italian peasantry culture.

The film vividly depicts the interactions of Levi (Gian Maria Volontè) with the locals from a perspective of an outsider, which is nicely aligned with viewers watching the film. The camera work is superb, inquisitively exploring the village and its people, while applying layered natural textures. If you look closely you'll notice the intricate tapestry of objects and people that if paused would appear as a timeless oil painting.

I especially liked the dinner scene when Levi meets the local tax collector who vehemently shares the woes of his job collecting tax from the poor peasants. His only salvation is playing the clarinet. You can clearly identify with him and the burden of his “thankless job.” It’s a solid presentation of humanity and compassion.

Pierro Piccioni, Rosi's long-time collaborator, provides a tantalizing soundtrack that explores the vast boundaries of the timeless existence of peasant culture compared to the modern world Levi is coming from. You can clearly feel the wide expanse of time and space and the futility in trying to bridge the two worlds. Listen to a fine sample here and you'll hear what I mean.

In case you wondered, the film’s title “Christ Stopped at Eboli” is in fact an Italian expression to convey that old ways and belief system held by the villagers are stronger than their Christianity.

Are you a Yankee fan? A Madonna die-hard? Or better yet a Justin Bieber's zealot?

By having sports or entertainment idols we develop a perfect extension of our identity. You might say, an aspired identity full of good looks, talents and fortunes. In this parallel worlds dynamics, whatever happens to your subject of admiration in their world is immediately mirrored to your life. Since everyone associates you with a recent win of your team or artist, now you’ve become a winner too. And yes, the opposite is also true…

Federico Fellini’s first film as a director delves deeper into the implications of idolizing heroes of the Fumetti – photo novels – that were very popular during the 40’s in Italy.

The film, a clever comedy, tells the story of a newly wed couple that arrives to Rome to meet the husband’s relatives.

What the husband Ivan (Leopoldo Trieste) doesn’t know is that his wife, Wanda (Brunella Bovo), a Fumetti fan had been exchanging letters with the White Sheik (Alberto Sordi), her favorite Fumetti hero, who invites her to meet him in Rome.

The hoplessly enamored Wanda ends up on a remote set location 30 km away from Rome. In essence, trashing her husband’s carefully planned visit, leaving him worried-sick and in constant need of excusing her absence to his relatives.

The result is a comic, yet a touchy story, in which Fellini also introduces us to Cabiria, the compassionate prostitute who consoles poor Ivan, played by Fellini's wife Giulietta Masina. Her fine performance served as the basis for her lead role in 1957 Nights of Cabiria.

I especially liked the funny wide eye-popping routine that both Ivan and Wanda employ. Yet, each for two different ends. Ivan for expressing shock transformed into anger over the disappearance of his wife. And Wanda for experessing awe morphed into a dreamy look when she meets the White Sheik (Sordi) for the first time. She made it! She crossed the boundaries of her mandane reality and made it to her hero’s fantasy world.

The film is blessed by the sensitive soundtrack of Maestro Nino Rota, Fellini’s loyal collaborator throughout his film career. The circus-like music during the beach scene that serves as set location for filming the photo novel - is strong and whimsical.

This scene is important because it demonstrates the fake boundaries between reality and fantasy, when creating entertainment content. The galore of celebrities on camera is flanked by their human vulnarability munching on a sandwich during a lunch break or when The White Sheik (Sordi) is reduced to tears after fighting with his wife.

The film's message is clear. We all like to carry various idols - our perfect alter-egos that may compensate for our human imperfections. But in reality, obviously no one is perfect including these idols that the media is daily selling us basking in eternal stardust.

Who is your White Sheik?

Looking for a classic heart-warming comedy?

Director Alessandro Blasettiis here to take you back to 1954 Rome in a brilliant comedy featuring signature performances by 20-years old Sophia Loren, Marcello Mastroianni and Vittorio De Sica. The film is a fine example of the Italian comedy (commedia all'italiana) genre of the 50’s-60’s known for masterpieces by Mario Monicelli, Pietro Germi and others that self-explored the social and economic changes affecting post-war Italian society.

The chemistry between young Loren and Mastroianni is phenomenal as well as De Sica’s portrayal of Loren’s father and head of a family of thieves. Mastroianni plays a naive taxi driver that means well, but keeps falling for the swindling charms of Loren and her fast-talking.

My favorite scenes are those of Mastroianni driving his taxi chastising himself after realizing he fell for yet another sham by Loren. His range of facial expressions and self-loathing are hilarious.

Beyond the dream-team cast, the film boasts a catchy swing tune that will keep you humming bingo bango bongo… days after watching the film. Interestingly, the song written by Renzo Arbore was originally made in the 40’s as a protest against the fascist colonialism. Here are the words to help you out with the chorus:

Oh bongo bongo bongo stare bene solo al Congo non mi muovo no no bingo bango bengo molte scuse ma non vengo io rimango qui no bono scarpe strette saponette treni e tassi' ma con questa sveglia al collo star bene qui.

Session Winter 2007. Last movie.

Lampedusa, an island of 6000 people, closer to Africa than to Sicily.

They don't even speak italian. They don't speak anyway. This movie talks through the southern people's glance, the wild gestures of bearfooted children, the dark thick skin of the fishermen and the close mouth of their women. Blessed by the blinding light of the sun and cursed by the sensual blue of an untouchable sea.

In this cultural prison, Grazia (Valeria Golino), wife of Pietro (Vincenzo Amato) and mother of Pasquale, Filippo e Marinella, free born, spontaneous, genuine, is a threat to the immobile agelong mentality of this secluded village.

What happened to Grazia? sweetly floating among the bubbles of thousands men in the night of San Bartolo?

Those who didn't come to this last class, really missed a great experience. An original venetian gondola, a charming real singing gondoliere James, prosecco from Victors cave, cheese from Israel by Shlomi, Andrea's lost italian words, unforgettable peperoni marinati by James (always singing), my curious provoking questions about this sweet movie suspended above this wonderful surreal scenery.

Session Winter 2007. Last class.

by the way, COMPARE SOUNDTRACK!

BUT... you didn't miss the chance to COMMENT THE MOVIE.

IN ITALIANO PER FAVORE.

Che cosa succede secondo voi a Grazia?

Grazie Jim.

Franco Elica, a famous movie director, accidentally in Sicily, has been given the job by the Prince of Gravina, to shoot the movie of his daughter’s wedding.

The film opens with the scene of the wedding of his daughter (the director’s), that he initially let others film it, but then he jumps into the crowd together with the other operators, among anxious video cameras and obsessive flashes. It’s the first scene that introduces a sort of dreamlike vision of the reality. A bit in slow motion, a bit filtered. It is a scene that recalls the dream. While we are watching in fact, we are not sure this is reality. Maybe is Franco dreaming, I think. I get curious. It’s a Bellochio that I don’t know. While I am already visualizing Ettore Picciafuoco, from My mother’s smile, sitting on the red couch abandoned to the sleep, or at the computer ravished by shifty images. In fact, the majority of the staff belongs to the beautiful precedent movie.

Franco Elica is looking for an actress for his new movie based on the novel I promessi sposi (The Betrothed) by Alessandro Manzoni, 1840. He is looking for a Lucia Mondella, the main character, the pure, the honest and the wise young girl.

The whole story is quite surreal, typical from Marco Bellocchio. It’s the exasperation of the hope and of the tragedy of human nature, continuously conflicting with conventions. There is a Prince rich in intellectuality but poor in patrimony, obliged to give his daughter Bona as wife of a wealthy still idiot guy, victim of his family with no hope. There is little princess Bona, the beauty hidden in a convent by her father, to prevent the beast, Franco Elica from kidnapping her before the salvation wedding. It is in fact a kind of transposition of I Promessi Sposi into a new era, or just into a new interpretation.

I don't like to say it, but maybe there is also a Fellinian touch. The music, the processions, the bands, the street artists, the ingenuousness, the ridiculous simplicity of modern man.

Meanwhile we hear one of those distinctive phrases that get stuck into your head and will never leave “in Italia sono I morti che comandano – in Italy dead people rule the country”. He’s referring to artists, meaning that, only after you die you are recognized by the art authorities, otherwise is only a matter of convenient political choices. Even if, also respecting the deads is a conventional choice. So basically an artist in the need for recognition has short life…

Typical subtle subversive attitude from Bellocchio. I love his style, elegantly insolent like his Prince of Gravina, the charming Semy Frey.

Franco Elica, a never boring, even if repetitive, Sergio Castellitto. A movie director (in the movie) who can go beyond any rules. He can dare, because is an artist. Because an artist, recognized as an artist (popular, and apparently talented) can more or less do anything he wants. He can even transform a wedding movie into a sexy movie, nobody would criticize his job.

It’s the game of real us or conventional us. The perception of life through conventional filters, the acceptance of rules without reactions, the intoxication of feelings tied by our social needs. However, Bellocchio gives us a chance, that small recommendation… dare to dream and you’ll be safe. Or just change perspective. Invert perspective. Subvert perspective. It’s not a luxury for artists only.

Marco Bellocchio can offer surreal situations but every single scene is dramatically real, or is the opposite. I don’t know. But the truth doesn’t change. Beautiful, elegant, sagacious, his movies are just delicious.

And... the symbols... the evocative names... the irony. And the setting... the details...

Mi piace.

The key ingredients of this film include: Academy award winner director GiuseppeTornatore; international debut of bombshell Monica Belluci; coming of age story of a young boy in a small Sicilian village during World War II; and the timeless music of Maestro Ennio Morricone.

Yes, the film may look like an attempt to repurpose Tornatore’s success of 1989 Nuovo Cinema Paradiso, some may even say forgetaboutit it’s all about MONICA! But I think the movie is simply about two opposite perceptions about the different. In this case, the differentiating element is beauty. These positive or negative perceptions are usually shaped by the beholder's potential of winning versus the fear of losing.

I’ll explain. Here the positive perception is dressed up as a sweet fantasy. Throughout the film young Renato sexually fantasizes about Malèna, but never gets to exchange even a minimal dialog with her. Yes, the possibility of a 13 years old boy still wearing his short pants (childhood label) having an affair with a woman in her 30’s in this context - is literally nonexistent.

Put simply, the potential of winning is meager, but in Renato’s mind it could easily happen. So he’s left conjuring up more elaborate fantasies about making it happen with Malèna from afar.

The negative perception is held by the women of the small village who are threatened by Malèna’s beauty. They’re obviously driven by the fear of losing their husbands to Malèna’s enchanting spell. Only after Malèna’s husband brings her back home – minimizing the threat – Malèna gains back her respect as old order is fully reinstated.

This interplay between opposite perceptions got me thinking. We’re pretty much all experiencing this in our everyday lives. Our reward system is programmed to see good opportunities as potential wins and unpleasant ones – as potential loses.

You have an upcoming hot date, interview for a dream job, meeting with a potential big client, even buying a lotto ticket. The days before the actual event, are what I call the sweet pre-feeling time where you’re pretty much walking on air. Sometimes that big event gets delayed a bit – so you even get an extra dose of pre-feeling bliss. Hey I might get that cushy job, Hey You Never Know the lotto slogan intoxicates us. The opportunity is yours if you play it right. In short, it’s fantasy time before the opportunity is gnawed by reality fangs.

Now compare that with your feelings about your dentist appointment next Tuesday…

Ricky Tognazzi’s classic anti-mafia thriller is deeply grounded in reality. The film was made a year after judge Giovanni Falcone was murdered as he was on his way to Palermo airport. The judge, his wife, and three police bodyguards were killed. Interestingly the film is not about the judge or the case, but focuses on the four bodyguards and the close bonding they develop with his replacement prosecutor, an outsider sent from Rome strange to the Sicilian ways.

You might expect a fast-paced movie with lots of action, but then again you’re in for another surprise. The film manages a restrained undercurrent tension that causes you to believe that any second something radical is about to happen as the bodyguards face threats on the road shuttling the investigator back and forth in his quest to seek justice. However, for the most part nothing major happens as the plot zigzaging leaves you with a constant “that was close” sensation. I would say it’s probably a much accurate capture of bodyguard reality than the typical 90-minutes of endless pyrotechnics.

If you are also a fan of Ennio Morricone, you’re in for a treat. Not yet? Well, you definitely should be. Morricone, this year’s winner of the Honorary Oscar award for lifetime achievement, provides a pounding score. The music perfectly supports this mounting tension that hits the bodyguards externally as they dodge various dangers on the job, and internally with the strain it brings on their families.

The message is simple. If you look around you, you too can see that often the real heroes are not necessarily those prime time figures busy rescuing the world. It’s in fact their support teams those faceless helpers behind the scenes that carry the heavy load. And as we know these so-called margins are far more interesting than the center as the neorelaist film movement has proven time and again. Real stories of real people that with recent waves of reality TV shows and YouTube’s user generated media - are now back in vogue.

We enter the VIP lounge and start a fight for the food. The buffet is overcrowded, as it’s already 10pm. Hands grabbing us from every side like uncontrollable tentacles, hard to keep away, so I decide to hit the bar and get some wine, leaving Shlomi and Odelia to the food mission.

After drinking some wine and getting some food, we start looking around. Small groups of Italians spread here and there, with their unmistakable natural pop-star attitude, which make them, by definition, charming. A little loud, happy and totally unaware of American customs, they smoke more or less everywhere. Spontaneously charming I would say.

Our goal is to interview Mario Monicelli, that would be Shlomi’s dream-come true, one of the classic masters of Italian cinema. Unfortunately he’s secluded on a corner, between a protective assistant and a giant bodyguard. Although the informal environment would allow us to approach him pretty easily, after looking his sweet old look, I don’t feel like disturbing him, clearly immersed in a contemplative personal silence, out of the crowd.

We look around. Tony Renis, no. He really is not part of our plans. Franco Nero, famous Italian actor, well-known for his spaghetti western movies. Father of Carlo Gabriel Nero, the director of the last movie of tonight with Vanessa Redgrave (his mother), The Fever. No, even him, with all our respect, does not meet our target.

Suddenly I find myself next to Mimmo Calopresti, and this is almost like a coincidence. Why we didn’t think of him before? His early screening tonight – Volevo Solo Vivere (I Only Wanted to Live) is a documentary showcasing interviews with Italian holocaust survivors that were deported to Auschwitz.

Mimmo has an open smile, on a very Italian good-looking face. Italiano del sud, which makes him even more distinctive, more Mediterranean. He doesn’t speak English, or he doesn’t want to. So we decide to talk only in Italian, easier for me, more challenging for Shlomi.

He is an open person, towards the people. Respectful. His eyes move around quickly, however there is something that makes me notice his deep attention to everything, to any ordinary thing. Maybe it’s his bloodhound nose. It’s fun and interesting having Mimmo’s attention and kindness, in a quieter corner.

We ask Mimmo some questions about the movie we just saw. The following details what we got from Mimmo’s interview at the the bar and from a short Q&A on stage after the screening.

Q – It’s a strong theme, why did you choose it? A – Because since I studied this at school, I have been always interested in understanding what happened. However, the question that never left me was WHY this happened. I have tried to find an answer, even through this work, but I didn’t. I didn’t find any answer to this question. The only thing, important thing, is that from all of this we have to learn to prevent anything like this, from happening again. We must not forget.

Q – How did you choose the interviews, based on what? A – I chose those that I felt to be the most emotional to me. Those that touched me the most.

Q – Have you ever been to Israel? A– Yes I did. I have also been to Auschwitz. I went with Walter Veltroni (the mayor of Rome), who every year takes students there from different schools. Once I went with them, it was a very strong experience.

Q – Why a documentary? A – To be precise, I actually started my career as a documentary director. I have done other documentaries in fact. I have always been interested in social topics.

Q – And what about your next work? A– My next work is a fiction; we have just finished shooting it. It’s called L’Abbuffata – The Pigout.

Not knowing his previous works, our questions must end. We thank Mimmo and let him go to his friends. While we promise ourselves to watch his movies. And of course, review them!

More information about the work of Mimmo Calopresti from Repubblica Mimmo Calopresti was born in Calabria, the region on the point of the boot. He lived in Torino for many years and here is where he started his job. He makes his first documentary A proposito di sbavature in 1985, followed by Alla Fiat era cosi’ (1990), a series of interviews to some ex blue-collar working in Fiat during 1969 when the social and political revolutionary movement wrapped Italy. Then, his first fiction interpreted by Nanni Moretti, La Seconda Volta– The Second Time in 1995. Set up in the tidy Torino, Mimmo Calopresti tells us with a great courage of words the terrorism of those times. It is a success recognized inside and outside the country. With La Parola Amore Esiste– The Word Love Exists (1998) he goes to Rome to set up the story of a cello teacher (Fabrizio Bentivoglio) and a weird beautiful girl (Valeria Bruni Tedeschi). The confirmation of his original style makes this work remarkable in several international festivals. In Preferisco il rumore del mare – I prefer the noise of the sea (2000) he is also actor, next to main character interpreted by Silvio Orlando. La felicita' non costa niente- Happyness doesn't cost anything, is from 2002. Mimmo Calopresti, tells about people who attempt to live with their personal contradictions, conscious of the urgency of making a choice and of its probable consequent mistakes.

Do your memories carry a soundtrack?

Ermanno Olmiin a genuine masterpiece believes they sure do. And why not? We all tend to associate old songs to places and people we used to know and this way create more vivid and richer “mini-episodes” in our mind. Olmi skillfully uses a lively tune of a dance hall where the two protagonists had met as a sleek time machine to whisk viewers back and forth between present, past and even imagined future.

The story takes place during the Economic Boom (Boom Economico) of the early 60’s in Italy, a period characterized by a transition from agricultural to industrial society. In this sense, Olmi continues with his displacement theme from Il Posto he did just two years earlier. If Il Posto tells the story of a young guy commuting from the province to the big city, in this film the transition is far more radical. It’s the experience of uprooting a factory worker from Milan all the way down to the industrial plants in Sicily, showcasing technological innovation planted in otherwise underdeveloped south, and the straining impact it brings on the relationship with his fiancé.

What does this picture tell you?

Yep, it’s pretty obvious to see the clear tension these two people have. On one hand Giovanni (Carlo Cabrini) sees the relocation as a great career opportunity, whereas Liliana (Anna Canzi) fears it will end their relationship. Back then most people were born, lived and died in the same place. The notion of finding work elsewhere was regarded as practically leaving all your life behind.

Ermanno’s signature style of minimal dialogs and maximum body language to convey a wide range of emotions is also prevalent here. My favorite is the opening sequence showing people entering the dance hall, checking out the crop of who showed up, finding their seats, the musicians getting ready on their post, the janitor surfacing the floor with white powder, the music begins, early dances breaking, and then the appearance of the two protagonists – solid first six minutes where words would have cluttered the clarity of depicting the place, the people and time. Simply exquisite!

The characters and events shown are imaginary The social and environmental context is real.

Fracesco Rosi's outrageously bold social realism film ends with the above condemning statement. The film offers a unique over the shoulder view into the world of political deal making and corruption in Naples of the early 60's. Rod Steiger effectively plays the ruthless, power-hungry real-estate speculator that successfully negotiates his way, disregarding needs of the people - in a scandal that has devastated Naples's civilian landscape.

The film won the 1963 Venice Film Festival Golden Lion and vividly separates the bad guys from the good guys. However, beyond the obvious injustices, it offers a solid reality check. You start looking around you and gradually the picture becomes clearer. We're all surrounded by outcomes good or bad that are nothing but a direct result of long influence chains of conflicting elements that somehow along the way aligned their interests and negotiated a deal or outcome. It could be your local shopping mall, interest rates, even this computer screen you're staring at right now. It's an outcome comprised of a long influence chain: chip suppliers, LCD manufacturer, computer maker, retailers and finally you the consumer - all operating with varying degrees of interests - to negotiate the best deal.

It could have been great if our world had unlimited resources and you could pretty much do anything you like with no consequences on others. Put simply, no losers only winners. Maybe someday when we can completely digitize our physical existence and create a virtual world where you can have endless digital copies of vital resources. Forget Web 2.0, Web millennium anyone? But then again you might say this could be a lonely and somewhat retarded world with no challenges where innovation is stifled.

Nice vision…until then we not only have to play with what we have, but also find ways to do it optimally. Enter Social Economics. The scientific study of the choices made by individuals and societies in regard to the alternative uses of scarce resources, which are employed to satisfy wants. Rosi's pessimistic view shows how real estate choices in his beloved Naples are ransacked by political and business influence chains, which work only to satisfy their greedy wants. And Piero Piccioni's erratic music does a superb job to support this premise.

To some extent Rosi's message is still pertinent today. That said, these days wer'e all part of interconnected social and professional networks with new means of making a bottom-up impact. What influence chains are you playing with and for what outcomes?

Several days ago we saw Cinema Paradiso at the House of Italy. Clearly the film centers on the relationship of projectionist Alfredo with Salvatore (Toto), both as child and as adolescent. A question that always comes back to me is why Alfredo insists so forcefully that the adolescent Salvatore leave and never return and never contact him again. Equally critical is the question why does Salvatore listen to Alfredo.

What precisely is wrong with village life in the Sicilian town that makes Alfredo so determined to force Salvatore out? And what knowledge does he have that somehow Toto shares with him such that Alfredo's insistence is not personal rejection?

Of course, in the longer version we might say it’s the forbidden crossing of class lines that makes this town seem so backward looking or repressive, but then that version never was the popular one. The popular version does not go into much detail about class lines preventing Salvatores’ romance. And yet here we have Alfredo, on the beach with his quiet but determined friend, for once speaking his own words, insisting Toto leave, never return, never contact him again.

Is this rejection of the Sicilian village and its society simply an anomaly in a film everyone sees as nostalgic? Is this demand that Salvatore never return really a good foundation for what every critic feels is just a feel-good movie about the good old days of glorious film and about the supposedly integrated world that makes our present-day atomised world seem like an alien insane asylum?

Clearly the village we see at the end of the film, Paradise crumbling in preparation for a parking lot, the beautiful piazza now jammed with buses, cars and jumbled arrays of junk, seems to be a paradise lost. So maybe Alfredo was prescient, maybe he saw the end coming. But I don’t think so.

The hard core of this movie is the work done by Alfredo, the projectionist, work that made him central to the village life but work that also destroyed him, an industrial labor that was incidentally infected with the romance of story-telling through pictures. What Alfredo knows is that he is not the one telling the stories and that the romance can be cut out, even if young Toto can conjure it up in single frames in his kitchen. Would Alfredo like to be the story-teller? You bet. That’s what binds Toto and Alfredo. Could he be? Not in a million years, this sweet, enduring peasant. And Toto? What of him? Could he ever grow into a story-teller in this village?

His initial attempts at this story-telling in high school seem perilous and ineffective, more an effort to capture some glimmer of his love, a keepsake of romance, than telling a story of love.

Life in this village, no matter what year, is always going to be edited, class differences will always be enforced, even in Paradise, and Toto will never have the opportunity to tell his own stories. Is this not the story of almost all Italian emigration?

And yet what does Salvatore accomplish by leaving? Is he around to save the Cinema Paradiso? Does he carry with him the places and people he was once so much a part of? He seems to trade in a donkey cart for a huge Mercedes, he seems to have lost most enduring social connections, he does not seem able to maintain a relationship with a woman for any amount of time, or at least not longer than the period between his mother’s phone calls.

This is not really a nostalgic movie. Rather it is an effort to make history somehow knowable. I see it finally as a look at how stories are made and what makes a story-teller. Someone at a very young age, bright, clever, mischievous, daring, tests all the boundaries and discovers that relationships and character can be represented in glorious ways, edited to eliminate some kinds of glory, but ultimately told in ways that make life sit still for a moment and engage in an entirely different kind of work, the work of remaking images, the work of Eros.

And the means for telling a story is what Alfredo gives Toto. The love and affection they share is the recognition each has in the other that stories are essential to their lives and that perhaps there is nothing else they could work at. So Alfredo tolerates the mischief and Toto tolerates the industrial misery so that each can participate in Toto’s education. But Toto, now Salvatore, can not go further in his education in his home town. And Alfredo can not accompany Salvatore in his work because Salvatore will become a story teller and Alfredo will not. Alfredo's work is done, there on the beach. It is likely, though, that Salvatores' work can not really begin until he returns home to recognize something important about himself, about his relationships and about his obligations to that part of the past he loved - that story telling is real work not just for the story teller but also for those who come to the story. That without that notion of shared work Salvatore as a director may not be more than the projectionist, simply stuffing someone else's stories into the film guides. But Salvatore as a director, as a real story teller, may be able to capture something about the meaning of Alfredo's work and make it as important for others as it was and still is for him.

The movie is not a glorification of the past, nor is it a condemnation of the present. It is about the limits of Toto’s education and the need for Salvatore to finish his own education, not just about his work as a story teller but also about the parts of his life that have been either edited by someone else or unknowingly by him. This is a direction we find elsewhere in Tornatore, but that's another discussion.

Take a close look at the this picture. What do you think is happening?

A lot has been written about this neorealist modern fairy tale from Vittorio de Sica - the director of ‘The Bicycle Thief’. If you haven’t seen this masterpiece yet, pick one of your gloomy days (we all have a few) and watch it. This heartwarming film is bound to give you the correct perspectives mixed with a great need to do good.

I picked this photo because it effectively illustrates the irony of our modern rat race after fame and money and the inevitable question of how much enough is enough. This especially rings true in today’s youth worship of entertainment idols. Jake Halpern’s new book Fame Junkies has recently revealed that given a choice of becoming the CEO of a major corporation, the president of Yale or Harvard, a Navy SEAL, a U.S. senator or "the personal assistant to a very famous singer or movie star," almost half of the surveyed teenagers chose the assistant role. Not even being the celebrity, just carrying his/her suitcases... Scary!

If you haven’t seen the film, that’s ok. All you need to know is that in this scene Toto, a young guy discovers he has a magic dove that can fulfill any wild fantasy his poor shantytown’s friends might have.

The picture shows an anxious crowd formed around Toto (not shown) who makes any wish come true. It’s interesting to see how quickly human desires morph from materialistic objects like a fur coat, a suitcase, or a sewing machine - into physical enhancements; becoming taller, curing stutter or changing skin color, and finally to wanting money and lots of it.

As you can see, some of the folks here are already dressed up with their initial wish - fancy hats and fur coats and are now vehemently competing to receive the highest amount of money. The scene starts with the fellow on the right who just wants 1 million, the bearded guy chimes in with 3 million and then the exchange turns into a contest for who has the longest breathing power to demand as many millions as possible: millione, millione, millione, millione.......... illione, lione, MILLONE!

Sadly, I find De Sica’s message relevant even after 56 years. It's about setting the right priorities, both personally and collectively. We’re all victims to a wide range of human greed: power, status, beauty, lust and much more that muddy up our waters daily. However when all is said and done, we're all short-term tenants in this world, and it all boils down to simply having the basics necessary to lead a decent life, as the film theme song suggests:

Ci basta una capanna per vivere e dormir ci basta un po’ di terra per vivere e morir Dateci un po’ di scarpe le calze e anche il pan A queste condizioni crediamo nel doman.

All we need is a hut to live in where we can lay our heads A plot of earth to toil in where we can live and die Give us a pair of shoes some stockings and also a loaf of bread In these conditions we’ll believe in tomorrow.

Can a social class gap prevent two people from having a relationship? According to Pupi Avati’s highly-acclaimed film Incantato – no for a while, but then again yes in 1920’s Bologna.

In this context, Nello a young and sensitive professor (Neri Marcorè) from Rome is sent to teach in a notable college in Bologna and most importantly to find a wife so he can eventually take over his father’s business. Nello falls head over heels with Angela (Vanessa Incontrada) – a stunning high society girl that due to an accident is blind.

This physical obstacle becomes a crucial “wall of protection” that temporarily keeps the relationship alive, albeit in two parallel worlds. What the eye can’t see, the heart can’t feel. Visual perceptions or their absence thereof lead the way. Yet, as soon as the handicap is removed social norms and family responsibilities forcefully reign in to keep order intact even at the price of losing one’s true love and career passion.

I also liked the score by Riz Ortolani of carefully prescient violins that effectively paint this fragile and doomed relationship every time the couple reaches another juncture in the ever-growing emotional imbalance.

In a recent post, Laura commented on Nanni Moretti's acting style - calling it "flat" - in the film The Son's Room. Well, here is a short clip from the movie, just hit play to watch:

True, this is just a clip, but to me he seems pretty expressive. What is your verdict? Flat or no flat? Anyone?

P.S. Moretti is the bearded guy.

I have tried so much to get your picture Victor. Yes Nanni Moretti is perfectly flat as that particular character should be. But there is something missing. Nanni Moretti is flat full stop. Which is different. Nanni Moretti is flat on his own, and his acting is forced, almost theatric, because the actor is not there. His flatness does not reach me. He is desperate yes, looking for his pain. That he can’t find. His pain is all left to the noises.

The screws on the coffin. The loud music at the fair. He screams through these noises. But this is the director Nanni Moretti, great. The actor is absolutely anti-artistic. He is unfair to let us have his acting. He is in this character because he wants to try this life experience. His eyes don’t show any pain because he’s is thinking about how this pain could be, and how he would feel in this situation. But he absolutely does not feel. This is basically a personal experiment. Anche un po’ irrispettoso. No. I think Nanni Moretti, if he really wants to be under the camera, should only use himself as a reporter style – like in Caro Diario. Sorry Victor.

Have plans for New Year? Not yet? Well…now you do!

Get your loved-one or no one and celebrate it with The Crush, an adorable short film (49 minutes) by Ermanno Olmi. The kind people at Criterion Collection included this fine featurette in the DVD of Il Posto, another gem I have recently covered.

The film tells the story of Andrea a sensitive teenage boy who is infatuated with a girl and his adventures on New Year’s Eve. Beyond the clever story, I liked the documentary elements that from soon-to-be 2007 - look extremely telling. On one hand technology has clearly progressed since the late 60’s, yet teenage nature remains constant.

Italy back then experienced an unprecedented economic boom that was characterized by the transition from relying on agriculture to industrialization. Against this backdrop, Andrea presents his “Industrial Approach” for picking up girls. In today's MySpace age, he probably would have called it his "Social Networking Approach." Unlike other guys who act emotional or disinterested and waste time in lengthy courtships, his method, he claims, is far more efficient. And he demonstrates it to his buddies, when he makes a list with names of all the boys where girls simply pick the boy they’re interested in making out with. Sounds a lot like Speed Dating to me...

Another example that effectively illustrates this interplay between available cool technologies and timeless teenage foibles is the party scene. After the above described list is formed the group gathers at one of the boys’ houses. The core attraction is naturally gadgetry dressed up as a fancy stereo system, the group is enamored with listening to the dynamic music of Strawinsky. And then like a YouTube omen, Andrea finds a movie camera and starts directing the group for a romantic scene. Some things never change.

The soundtrack boasts a cheerful 60’s Rock 'n' Roll tune that perfectly fits this sweet mix of teen innocence and senseless infatuations - a sure recipe to bring back memories of your high school parties. Happy New Year!

I had no particular expectations from this film. I believe a film synopsis has this ingrained tendency to misrepresent sometimes. In this film Bernardo Bertolucci takes you to his early days in cinema, during the tumultuous late 60’s. It’s highly experimental, with erratic jump cuts, inconsistent plot line, political propaganda (Free Vietnam!) and occasional stylistic scenes that stand aloof just because of their aesthetics. A memorable scene is the giant shadow on a building that kicks away a smaller shadow of the main character.

The film is based on a short story by Dostoyevsky “The Double.” Bertolucci modified it a bit to tell the story of Jacob (Pierre Clémenti) a lonely theater teacher who invents his double, yet a much more extrovert and fierce copy. Cast members you may recognize include Stefania Sandrelli, Sergio Tofano, and Ninetto Davoli (Pasolini’s favorite actor). At the time films required by law to use at least 2 film students, so Bertolucci figured the more the merrier and included dozen students from the Experimental Film Centre in Rome.

I found the film hard to watch because of its incoherent storyboard and over experimentalism. It all made sense though when I watched the interview with Bertolucci in the bonus material. He then reveals the fact that he didn’t find himself connected to the mainstream commercial cinema of the 60’s in Italy – mostly comedy. Instead he opted to follow the French New Wave cinema. So his mission was to contradict the status quo in almost every scene he made.

Another interesting fact he shares, and I wonder if any of you readers can validate, Italian directors at the time never recorded the sound of actors on location – only visuals. They always dubbed it later in the editing room, whereas Bertolucci claims to be the first to capture both visual and audio from his actors. Fascinating!

Do you remember your first job interview and your mom protectively cautioning you, don’t mess up this could be a great opportunity, practically work for life? Or an important exam you took at school and the following stress afterwards when your friends commenting - that was easy (no it wasn't!), prodding you the correct answer was 24, right?

In this film, Ermanno Olmi effectively captures the world of a young guy from the province who comes to the big city, Milan, in his quest to get a job in a large corporation. Olmi does a fantastic job painting these fragile feelings of inexperience, naivety, and anxiety against the rigid ideas of the importance of finding work, but not just any work – work for life (aberration in today’s job market), family responsibilities, and corporate dominance over the lives of employees inside and outside the office.

The first half of the film revolves largely around the intense, and at times comic interview process young Domenico has to go through; writing an essay, solving a math problem and coiling embarrassingly during a psychometric interview. Dialogs are short as Olmi skillfully leverages facial expressions as a powerful communication tool. There is a scene where Domenico (Sandro Panseri) and his test mate Antonietta (Loredana Detto), are standing in a coffee shop, finishing up their drinks and looking for cues what to do with their cups, identifying an old lady next to them, in the same stage, that decidedly leaves the cup on the table – grinning to each other (aha, that’s how you do it!) they put their cups on the table too and leave the shop. Not a word was spoken, but a simple human effort to make sense of a vague context.

Neorealist films are characterized by use of non-professional actors. They are shot almost exclusively on location, mostly in poor neighborhoods and in the countryside. Neorealism was first introduced in 1945 with Roma, Città Aperta (Rome, Open City) by Roberto Rossellini. In this film, Olmi religiously follows this model. For example, all the other job candidates that appeared in the film were non-professional actors that were attending a technical school at the time, and actively searching for a job. For Olmi it was cardinal that their facial expressions (his favorite communication tool) were authentically aligned with the film’s theme.

The other half of the film follows Domenico’s experience on the job and the intricate meanings of working for a big company in Milan in the 60’s. Extremely stretched, yes but still relevant; The big boss, the office politics, the company holiday party, the lunch break, and payday – themes we can all relate to. In this sense, some may say this film is a unique precursor to the successful TV show “The Office.”

This was the first film we saw in our House of Italy series. The series' producers (myself & two friends) spent a bit of time deciding what should be their first film & chose this one not only for its filmic qualities but also because it was about movie-making. It wasn't until after our discussion that I began to realize it was really about making honest art, not just STARS.

A friend wrote me later with some more questions, which I'll include here, but his questions pointed me to exactly those parts of the movie which opened up the whole thing for me.

As I watched the movie, I was enchanted by the story, the phony interviews, the various characters, especially the con guy Joe. And when it was over I was ready for a good discussion, but one of our members, a lady originally from Sicily jumped up and condemned us for showing a film that portrayed Sicily as dirty, broken, primitive. We three organizers were completely dumbfounded, but I was pretty happy that anyone would feel so comfortable in our series that she could produce her own brand of fire & brimstone. This sort of cut short most other discussion, however. And so I was pretty wild about sharing my own opinions then.

So when I received my friend's email, I pretty much uncorked a pretty bubbly brew of observations and opinions. For now I'll just post my friend's note to me so that the questions can be considered by anyone who has seen the movie. And if you haven't seen it, I really recommend it. It is a wonderful, wise and witty film.

Here's the email:

An imposter travels to little towns in a truck providing an entertainment to its simple people. He falls in love with a sweet girl who, because of his dishonest behavior, loses her mind. Sounds like La Strada--a great film.

The differences are what made this, for me, a very good movie.

The people of the town, learning their lines from Gone with the Wind, was humorous--there was no humor in La Strada.

Joe Morelli, unlike Zampanone, but like most charlatans, had an element of charm, I found him likable.

The townspeople recounting their stories in front of the camera was original and beautiful.

What I don't understand, are the two sex scenes. They were needed for the film to work, but why show all that pumping to adults who know how it works? Does this sell tickets?

The other scene that didn't seem to fit, with the "rich" thieves in a bombed out town, seemed contrived.

What do you think?

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