I already told you how much I love the cinema. It’s a bit like a book I suppose, living other lives. I’ve always found it so impressive though frightening, how filmmakers can manoeuvre us. Probably because it works on emotion. Tolstoy told me that. Do you remember the passage? He related that as a boy he had joined in tormenting an unloved companion “I am quite unable to explain to myself my cruel behaviour. How was it I did not go up to him, did not protect or console him? Where was my tender heart which often caused me to sob wildly at the sight of a young jackdaw pushed out of its nest, or a puppy being thrown over a fence , or a chicken the cook was going to make a soup of?
Can it be that all these good instincts were stifled in me by my affection for Seriozha (the bully) and my desire to appear in his eyes as fine a fellow as he was himself?” And here we have the explanation of why we cannot trust our emotions. This passage has always been a kind of mantra for me because emotions are scary aren’t they? And in the cinema they’re not only scary but false too. The first time I realised this was when I went to see E. T. All of a sudden along a long row, the whisper ” pass the tissues please”! Embarrassing. But how do they do it?
This love for the cinema comes from a long way back so I guess that makes it pretty unsurprising then that some of the films I enjoyed the most at “Cinema sotto le stelle” were not really new, although they were among the classics not only of the Italian cinema but of world cinema..
I was lucky enough to see the rennovated version of Elio Petri’s “Indagine su un cittadino al di sopra di ogni sospetto”. I’m not the only one who sees the film as a masterwork as Petri won the 1971 Oscar for it for best foreign language film, Gran Prix Cannes and numerous others, even though I believe he had certain difficulties getting it shown at first as it was seen as a politically provocative film,
coming as it did in the years of lead and in the aftermath of the Pinelli crime. Noticed by many is the similarity between Gian Maria Volontè and police chief Calabrese.
But I don’t want to go down that road, as quite frankly, I don’t know enough about it and I find the universality of the film unlinked to a specific time or place the more fascinating an approach. The schizophrenia of power is underlined by Enno Morriconi’s soundtrack which was actually the reason they showed the film at “Cinema sotto le stelle”, as a tribute to the recently dead maestro. It is a wonderful study in power: the arrogance of” il dottore” (the Italian love of titles so often sent up by comedians, no one can forget Fantozzi’s “gran mascalzon.lup.man.pezz.di merd.dottor Brambani”) intimidating his victims during police interviews in contraposition to his grovelling obsequiousness when he is in an inferior position in the pecking order. He commits the crime and scatters the crime scene with clues and in an elaborate game, accuses himself making sure however, that no one believes him.
And what to say about Volontè? In an outstanding scene with the press he speaks of “immutable law carved in time”, and infers that repression equals civility or as he says “repression is our vaccine”,and he is totally convincing as this grotesque “child” of power
It is impossible to pick up all the subtleties of the film first time round. I’m thinking of biting the bullet and buying it from Amazon so that I can study it in detail. It was really difficult to stay cool- headed and critical throughout a film of this stature.