“This tragedy comes as deliverance.”

Elective Affinities is set in 19th Century Italy. Widow Carlotta (Isabelle Huppert) and Edouard (Jean-Hugues Anglade) meet again after a twenty-year separation. Their interrupted love affair immediately resumes, and they marry quickly. The blissful couple retreat to Edouard’s Tuscany villa, but when he announces that he’s invited his friend, architect, Ottone to stay, Carlotta is concerned that their solitude will be ruined. And it is ….

Ottone spends an evening explaining how elements “give up original bonds and reform”, and he even draws a little diagram to illustrate his subject. This is so heavy-handed that it comes as no surprise when Carlotta decides to invite her stepdaughter, Ottilia is join the fun in the country–and the idea is, naturally, that the four people will be affected by each other and form new relationships.

At this point, I thought I was perhaps about to watch some sort of film with a free-love message–you know–a sort of 19th Century Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice complete with bed hopping. I was wrong. The film degenerated into an overly-sentimental, queasy, self-righteous story with a heavy moral message. The guilty twist and suffer, and the morally correct characters are, well … insufferable.

It was a little unsettling to see Isabelle Huppert play the role of Carlotta–rather a cold fish, and it was especially un-nerving to see her close-up dubbed speeches. Otto’s character was wooden, and Edouard rather unbelievable–his eagerness at several points in the film was quite nauseating. The one ’steamy’ scene was tepid at best–and again–extraordinarily heavy-handed.  From directors Paolo and Vittorio Taviani, Elective Affinities is based on the Goethe novel.

A marvelous film

We know within the first few scenes of the wonderful Italian film, I’m Not Scared that the protagonist, Michele (Giuseppe Cristiano) is a very unique boy. He has a moment of choice, and whereas many ten year olds would opt for the easy way out, Michele does not. Michele’s sense of morality is apparent, and in spite of peer pressure, he chooses the moral action. Michele, a quiet, introspective boy lives with his parents and his younger sister in a remote area of Southern Italy. The year is 1978. It’s an endless summer–glorious days are spent playing with friends, and running with careless abandon through fields of golden wheat. Michele and his friends play some of their games at an abandoned house, and it’s here, Michele discovers a boy his own age who lies chained in a filthy hole.

I’m not Scared reminds me of The Devil’s Backbone in terms of the presentation of a child’s recognition of evil in the adult world. I’m Not Scared, however, does not contain elements of the supernatural. Instead this is the story of a boy who loves and obeys his parents, and then tries to reconcile a new horrible knowledge into his code of morality. The film, directed by Gabriele Salvatores portrays the child’s view of life exceedingly well. Too often, films resort to children as the know-it-alls–spewing out a ludicrous wisdom of life. Michele, however, remains a 10 year old boy–content to keep a secret, and yet simultaneously unaware of the ramifications of his knowledge. I’m Not Scared is a marvelous film in Italian with English subtitles.

“Men with lice don’t sleep well.”

Lamerica from director Gianni Amelio is a political film set in Albania. Albania has just emerged from years of communist rule, and two opportunistic Italians, Gino and Fiore come to Albania to set up a bogus shoe factory. Fiore has done this sort of thing before. Gino–the younger man–has not. In order to set up the factory, the wheels of Albanian bureaucracy need to be greased. The plan is that investors or grants will fund the so-called factory, and the two Italians will set up the bogus company, grab all the money and run. This seems like a fairly simple plan, and one that has worked well for Fiore previously.

The minute Gino and Fiore arrive in Albania, it is clear that they are in the midst of a highly unstable and volatile political situation. 100s of troops are in the ruined streets, and starving beggars hound the well-dressed, well-fed Italians. Thousands of Albanians are desperate to leave and will go to any lengths to join the crowds of refugees swarming onto every ship, train or bus heading for the border. Italian culture permeates the poverty-stricken country. Everywhere they go, the Italians trip upon elements of Italian culture in the most unlikely places. The starving Albanians are narcotized by Italian game shows, and Albanian parents will give away a child on the off chance that fame awaits in Italy. Gino seems doubtful that the plan can work, but Fiore is more confident.

Albanian law requires the selection of an Albanian as the chairman of the company. The Italians require someone as a figurehead only–someone with no relatives, and their search leads them to the squalor of a former “model labor camp.” There, the Italians are introduced to a pathetic, filthy old man who is called Spiro Tozai. But Tozai is not quite what he seems.

When Tozai goes missing, Gino begins the hunt for his precious ‘chairman’. Gino leaves the relative comfort and security of his hotel to search for Tozai. One by one, the layers that separate Gino from the Albanians are stripped away, and Gino finds himself as helpless and desperate as the average Albanian. Gino is not a sympathetic character at all. He has no time for the beggars who line the streets–he is simply out for himself. In contrast, Tozai–a man who has suffered years of deprivation in a labor camp, cares for his fellow men. Gino’s complete degradation becomes his journey towards joining the human race.

There are only two professional actors in this film, and yet every performance was solid. Lamerica is a perfect film. I recommend it without reservations.

“Once again, happiness knocked on my door in vain.”

Italian housewife, Rosalba Barletta (Licia Maglietta) is on en route back home after a holiday with her obnoxious loudmouth husband and their two teenage sons. Rosalba is inadvertently left behind at a bus stop. At first she intends to catch up with her family, but then she makes a detour to Venice–a city she’s always wanted to see. A one-night escape converts into a full-blown adventure, and soon Rosalba is living and working in Venice establishing a new life all of her own.

Rosalba’s overbearing husband furiously demands that she return, but his nastiness serves only to re-enforce the reasons she’s in Venice in the first place. When Rosalba doesn’t return, her husband (who is also cheap to the core) employs a plumber with an interest in detective fiction to hunt Rosalba down and bring her back to her ever-mounting housewifely chores.

Three characters aid and abet Rosalba. There’s Fernando Girasoli (Bruno Ganz), the loquacious waiter at a local Chinese restaurant, Grazia, the new age masseuse, and a florist with anarchistic tendencies. The naive plumber sent to track down Rosalba discovers that some detective novels tips are invaluable when tracking down a renegade housewife. While it is definitely true that the film’s appeal targets those who experience love in middle age, there’s also a delicious novelty to “Bread and Tulips.” It’s an utterly charming film. It’s romantic, but it’s also funny. And there’s a reassurance that stepping into a new life may be as simple as missing the bus. If you enjoyed “Educating Rita” and “Shirley Valentine”, then there’s an excellent chance that you will also enjoy the very good-natured Italian film, “Bread and Tulips.”

“The Sultan likes happy endings.”

Director Ferzan Ozpetek sets his film Harem Suare (Last Harem) in the twilight days of the Ottoman Empire. The story revolves around Safiye (Marie Gillian), a harem dweller who was sold to the Sultan at age 8. Many of the women in the harem have yet to gain the aging Sultan’s attentions, and Safiye is one of the women who have not yet been chosen. Following an incident, Safiye gains the Sultan’s eye. He asks her name, and suddenly she is one of the favoured ones–this boils down to a night (or more) with the Sultan. If the union is fruitful, and a harem dweller bears a child, then this increases her stature in the community. She will earns jewels from the Sultan, and great envy and possibly even death from her many rivals ….

The harem is at once a protected, cosseted world for the women who live there, and a vicious hotbed of palace intrigue. Dozens of beautiful women try to find ways to spend their boring, unchallenging lives as they idle around the magnificent palace. They are little more than exotic, expensively maintained pets. Intensely threatened and jealous of one another, the women’s captivity breeds hatred and rivalry. To wile away the hours, the women spend hours naked in the steam baths, are massaged with expensive, fragrant oils, become addicted to hashish, and tell each other stories.

Story-telling is at the heart of Harem Suare, and this method of narration creates a languid timelessness and wonder–while also adding some confusing elements to the tale. One tale of harem life is told by the slave, Gulfidan (Serra Yilmaz) to a room full of harem dwellers. Gulfidan relates the story of Safiye’s rise in the harem, and her forbidden relationship with the eunuch, Nadir (Alex Descas). Other, fragmented sections of the film are composed of a now-aged Safiye (Lucia Bose) telling her story to Anita (Valeria Golina), a distraught Italian woman, as the two women wait in a train station for their respective trains to take them to their destinations. These two stories weave back and forth allowing the viewer to piece together the final tale. However, some viewers may be confused by some of the time elements–especially in the aging of Gulfidan. Gulfidan is Safiye’s maidservant, and she tells Safiye’s story to a room full of harem women long after the harem system has been disbanded. One should accept this impossibility as a device to illustrate the timelessness of a mystical conundrum.

Harem Suare is an exotic tale that exposes the incredible decadence and cruelty of a despotic system. The settings are breathtakingly beautiful, lush, and sensual. The story is tragic, and it conveys with a magnificent irony, the fate of the women who were selected for their unique talent and beauty but discarded when they ceased to be useful. The director’s subtle analogy to the fate of the harem women against the fate of the stray dogs of Istanbul is loaded with pathos. This is an absolutely stunning film, and by far my favourite Ozpetek film to date. The film is in Italian, Turkish, and French with English subtitles. Note to Ozpetek fans–the character, Anita is also the owner of the haman in Steam.

“I don’t know who he was.”

Antonia (Margherita Buy) and Massimo (Andrea Renzi), childhood sweethearts, have been married for 15 years, when he is suddenly killed. They appeared to have a happy, settled, and successful marriage, although there are warning signals that Antonia, a doctor, fails to see. Devastated by her loss, Antonia finds a clue that Massimo hid secrets from her. Through some detective work, she discovers that her husband had a long-term relationship with another man–the sultry, Michele (Stefano Accorsi).

His Secret Life from director Ferzan Ozpetek (Facing Windows) raises some fascinating questions. How much do we ever really know anyone–especially if that person goes to considerable lengths to hide a certain side of their character? Massimo’s death becomes an opportunity for growth for Antonia. She’s rigid and often judgmental, and even her mother bemoans the fact that Antonia needs to ease up on her approach to life. When confronted with Michele’s band of friends, Antonia discovers a group who has largely been rejected by society, and yet they are totally accepted by each other. Massimo, who appears just briefly in the beginning of the film, remains an enigma to those who loved him best, and the film, thankfully, makes no effort to understand his motives. Instead the story largely concentrates on Antonia’s exposure to Massimo’s secret, the range of emotions she experiences when she learns the truth, and her reactions to the individualism expressed by the people she meets at Michele’s flat. Unfortunately, the film declines into a rather silly romance, and while the romance itself raises some serious questions about Antonia’s behaviour, the sell-out ending, ultimately, panders to naivety. In Turkish and Italian with English subtitles.

“Always remain a free woman.”

The Italian film, “La Balia” explores motherhood and the role of women against the backdrop of social unrest in early 20th century Rome. Wealthy Professor Mori (Fabrizio Bentivoglio) is a psychiatrist in charge of an asylum for female patients. Mori’s wife, Vittoria (Valeria Bruni Tedeschi) gives birth to a boy, but she’s unable to nurse the baby. Mori goes to the country and employs a wet nurse, Annetta (Maya Sansa)–with the stipulation that she leaves her own baby boy behind in her village and returns to Rome to nurse his son.

Annetta is a good wet nurse, and this, naturally, pleases Professor Mori. Vittoria, however, is consumed with feelings of uselessness and jealousy. There seems to be no role remaining for Vittoria to fill, and her insecurity grows. Unfortunately, Vittoria cannot easily voice these concerns to her husband. Ironically, while Mori is devoted to his patients, he seems unable to connect with his wife’s depression. Mori admires Annetta’s spontaneity and ability to express affection, and when she asks him to teach her how to read and write, he agrees.

“La Balia” makes a statement about the plight of women–women are locked up in one form or another, and even though Vittoria is a ‘free woman’ she evidently has a great number of issues to cope with. The film shows scenes of the village women queuing up to apply for the job of wet nurse, and this is just one of the humiliations to be experienced before getting the job. It’s heart wrenchingly cruel to expect a woman to leave her own baby to go feed another, and yet Professor Mori and his wife expect Annetta to do just that. But the bottom line is that Annetta needs money, and the Moris have it. While the Moris seem unconnected to the social unrest that swirls around their home, they’re obviously tied to it by their status and wealth alone.

“La Balia” is a pretty film, and the domestic drama is set against turbulent times. The father of Annetta’s baby is a ’subversive’ and the politics of the time provide a faint subplot for the film. While there’s nothing horribly wrong with this film, it’s a little tepid and superficial, and the ending is unsatisfying. Based on a novel by Luigi Pirandello “La Balia” is from director Marco Bellocchio. In Italian with English subtitles.

“You are what you choose to be.”

“Remember Me, My Love” is the story of an Italian family in crisis. Father/husband Carlo Rustuccia (Fabrizio Bentivogolio) has dreams of one day finishing his novel. His wife Giulia (Laura Morante) once dreamed of being an actress, but instead she teaches English. Their teenage children Valentina (Nicoletta Romanoff) and Paolo (Silvio Muccino) have ambitions of their own. Dulled by boring lives and secretly full of resentments, Carlo and Guilia’s marriage decays and they silently drift apart. Carlo’s reunion with former lover, Alessia (Monica Bellucci) sends him spiraling into a passionate affair.

As Carlo rediscovers his love affair with Alessia, Guilia is persuaded to return to the stage by friends. While the parents head towards an inevitable crisis, both Valentina and Paolo strike out into the world seeking the things they want the most. Valentina is determined to win a spot on a tacky television programme and Paolo seeks to impress a girl in school.

“Remember Me, My Love” is an excellent examination of mid-life regrets. While Carlo doesn’t really solve his regrets with the distractions of a destructive affair, he at least gains an indulgent ear from the luscious Belluci. Guilia’s determination to succeed on the stage is in direct contrast with Valentina’s approach towards an acting career. While Guilia is genuinely talented, her daughter, Valentina is not. Valentina possesses the moves of an exotic dancer, and she is determined to get that television spot. The film flirts with the notion that Valentina is just another beautiful body used and tossed aside by the wolves at the television studio. Fortunately, Valentina is made of resilient stuff–she’s too shallow to suffer humiliations, and always sees herself as the triumphant heroine of any melodrama–even her own degradation. Ultimately it’s the complicated nuances from director Gabriele Muccino that saves “Remember Me, My Love” from sinking into soap opera status. His characters create an interesting film and an ultimately elusive conclusion. In Italian with English subtitles.

The quality of mercy . . .

Malena (Monica Bellucci) is a beautiful young Italian woman whose husband is off fighting in Africa during WWII. The only male in her life is her deaf father who teaches Latin at the local school. The fact that Malena lives alone–without a man in her life–causes great excitement in the small town. The men speculate about her endlessly, and she is the object of their ribald jokes and comments. As a result, the women in the town hate Malena, and soon Malena is driven to desperate measures just to get enough to eat.

The story is told through the eyes of Renato (Giuseppe Sulfaro)–a young boy–who idolizes Malena from afar. He follows Malena, and he is privy to Malena’s darkest moments. In spite of the fact that he fantasizes about Malena, he still manages to see her as a suffering human being. As an outsider, she is viewed with suspicion, and eventually treated with immense cruelty. In a time when Italy plunged recklessly into WWII, the townspeople chose to focus their attention on Malena. She becomes their entertainment, the centre of their gossip, and the vessel for all their discontent.

The film includes some over-the-top scenes with Renato’s noisy, rambunctious, extroverted family, and these amusing scenes contrast with the sterility and silence of Malena’s life. Renato’s father is stubbornly opposed to Il Duce during a period when it is not safe to voice that opinion, and he also recognizes the cause of his son’s frustration. Unfortunately, for Malena, her father–her lifeline to respectability–fails to save her. War brings out the worst in humankind, and Malena is seen as a tragic victim of the times. Even those who are not addicted to foreign film should find this remarkable Italian film with English subtitles quite accessible.

Another brilliant film from Pontecorvo

If you enjoyed Gillo Pontecorvo’s films The Battle of Algiers and the more obscure Burn, then there’s an excellent chance that you’ll enjoy The Wide Blue Road. While this film is less overtly political (Italian Jewish Pontecorvo is a Marxist), there’s a subtle political message there.

The Wide Blue Road is set in the islands off the coast of Italy. Since the closure of the local quarry, the only source of income for the local men is fishing. Some men have shelved their nets, and turned to using dynamite to get a bigger catch. Dynamite fishing is illegal, but the local coast guard must actually catch fisherman in the act of using dynamite in order to prosecute them.

There’s an acknowledged status quo on the island. Squarcio (Yves Montand) is known to be a great fisherman, but he’s long since given up fishing the old-fashioned way, and now uses dynamite. Everyone knows he fishes this way, but the other fishermen don’t condemn Squarcio. They see him as a fellow victim of financial hardship. The coast guard officer is also an old friend of Squarcio’s, and while he also knows that Squarcio uses dynamite, he doesn’t pursue the matter. Squarcio’s childhood friend, Salvatore (Francisco Ravel) hopes to develop a co-op amongst the fisherman and eventually buy a fridge, so that the fisherman can control more of their profits. As it is, the merchant who owns the only fridge on the island gives the men a pittance for their catch.

The status quo on the island alters when a new coast guard officer arrives. He wants to capture Squarcio, and Squarcio, won’t give up dynamite fishing–even though his wife (Alida Valli) urges him to stop. Squarcio’s quest to support his family by illegal fishing develops into a relentless, stubborn and self-destructive drive.

The Wide Blue Road is really a marvelous film. Yes, it’s the story of a simple fisherman, but it’s much more than that. One of the film’s major themes is an examination of Individualism/Capitalism vs. Socialism–Salvatore’s efforts to form a collective are at first assisted by Squarcio, then ignored, and finally undermined as Squarcio places the finances of his own family above all the other families on the island. Squarcio’s desire to provide for his family crosses a moral line when he compromises the other families, and as a result, Squarcio and his family become social outcasts.

The Wide Blue Road is a beautiful film. There are some breathtaking scenes of the ocean full of sailboats as the fisherman gather to begin a day’s work. The film is a touch sentimental in a few places, but overall, this is an engaging, intense story of one man’s hubris. In Italian with English subtitles.