by Sachin Gandhi
On the surface, Fellini’s La Strada does not appear to exhibit characteristics of what is mostly associated with romantic films. There is no display of love, no passionate embrace or kiss or even a discussion of a relationship. The only thing on display from the first frame to the last is tragedy! The film starts and ends with death but these two events are crucial to the film’s passage of love. The first news of death kick-starts the journey of the two lead characters. The second death gives meaning to the relationship of the two characters and gives a face to the feelings of love that lingered underneath the surface. Death is a critical element in the journey of true love as evident in many romantic tragedies over the centuries. From Shakespeare to Urdu literature, death goes hand in hand with love. In fact, in the seven stages of Love (Attraction, Attachment, Love, Trust/Reverence, Worship, Obsession/Madness, Death) in Urdu language, death marks the seventh and final stage of Love. La Strada doesn’t depict all these stages in order but manages to incorporate them in one form or another. The film manages to hide all its emotions beneath a cold indifferent surface but by the end, all the emotions spill over like the waves that wash up on shore in the final scene.
La Strada starts off with a cold emotionless transaction which has nothing to do with love. Zampano (Anthony Quinn) needs another assistant for his one man traveling act after Rosa passes away. He visits Rosa’s mother who agrees to sell another one of her daughters, Gelsomina (Giulietta Masina), to Zampano. The mother tells Gelsomina that Zampano will treat her well, which does not turn out to be the case as he is a brute who is harsh and demonstrates no compassion or concern. Gelsomina is kind-hearted and tries her best to smile, no matter how miserable the situation. Her mannerisms, including her hat and clown outfit, give her a Chaplinesque appearance, but it is apparent things are not as rosy as she tries to view them. Zampano is all muscle and no heart. This is evident by his show act where he breaks a chain tied around his chest. His muscles are his only source of income. On the other hand, Gelsomina provides heart and some soul with her comedic relief dressed as a clown. As the two work together, she starts to depict an attachment towards Zampano and a form of trust and loyalty. There is no attraction towards Zampano but through a chance encounter, she finds herself attracted to the Fool (Richard Basehart), a daredevil trapeze artist who walks the high wire between two buildings. As chance would have it, Zampano and Gelsomina join the same circus as the Fool. There appears to be some history between the Fool and Zampano and the Fool takes every chance to make fun of Zampano, who in turn can’t wait to bash the Fool’s head in. In one such incident, the Fool goes a bit far with his taunting causing Zampano to chase him down with a knife. No one gets hurt but Zampano lands in jail. After his release, the Fool goes his own separate way but one day comes face-to-face with Zampano on the same road (not the only occasion where the film’s title is appropriate). Zampano is finally able to land a few punches on the Fool and feels he has proved his point. But Zampano’s punches end up killing the Fool, an act which causes Gelsomina to go into depression and start losing touch with reality.
Through the course of the film, Gelsomina exhibits attraction, attachment, love, trust/reverence and worship towards Zampano or the Fool. She finds an attraction towards the Fool but she is loyal and attached to Zampano. Both men on the other hand don’t really display any concern for Gelsomina. Zampano is openly critical of her and even manages to not take her offer of a future seriously. While the two are by the ocean, Gelsomina remarks that once she longed to get back home but now she thinks her home is with Zampano. With a smile on her face, she softly says:
“Now I feel like my home is with you.”
Zampano, true to form, harshly remarks:
“Oh yeah? What a discovery. And what all that poverty at your house to tempt you.”
With one comment, he slammed the door shut on her offer. The Fool is no better either. He appears kinder but also does not spare Gelsomina and takes a few digs at her as well. Gelsomina also blindly listens to what both Zampano and the Fool tell her, akin to worshiping them without question. No matter how bad things get, she finds a way to go on but that changes with the Fool’s death, a trigger point that causes Gelsomina to lose her joyful spirit. She gets weaker and mixes different memories and thoughts. In one incident, she indicates that the Fool is hurt but a moment later is certain of his death and blames Zampano for killing him. To Zampano, her behavior is akin to madness and he wants to get on with his life and not think about the Fool. He leaves her alone in the middle of nowhere. She is found but likely never recovered from the Fool’s death and eventually dies alone.
By the film’s end, when Zampano finally realizes his true feelings for Gelsomina, it is too late. She is out of his reach. Burdened by his guilt, he gets drunk and wanders to the beach, looking up to the heaven. In this final image, he is a classic portrait of Devdas, the most famous tragic lover in all of Indian cinema, a man who turned to alcohol to drown out his sorrow. This tragic figure of Zampano also shares a bond with Vijay in Guru Dutt’sPyaasa. La Strada was released in 1954, Bimal Roy’s adaption of Devdas came out in 1955 and Pyaasa in 1957. It is interesting that these three films were made in different parts of the world but they are united under the classification of romantic tragedies, films where love is not given life. Instead, like Devdas, the love in La Strada is made eternal by death.
On the surface, Fellini’s La Strada does not appear to exhibit characteristics of what is mostly associated with romantic films. There is no display of love, no passionate embrace or kiss or even a discussion of a relationship. The only thing on display from the first frame to the last is tragedy! The film starts and ends with death but these two events are crucial to the film’s passage of love.
Buffo opening, though the entire essay is focused on the matter of romantic qualification. In this sense it is pretty much unlike any review that has thus far been submitted to this countdown. This is after all what this project is all about, and you Sachin have reached the top of Mount Everest with this stunning examination and appreciation of a timeless work of the cinema that most certainly does NOT wear its heart on its sleeves. As you so superbly delineate, this is a tragic work, that is moved forward by the deepest transcription of love. The performances have been justly celebrated since it opened and won universal acclaim. I congratulate you on a profound essay that examines the film both with passion and scholarly heft. This is the second time the site has been graced with a marvelous study of this cinema masterpiece (after Jim Clark’s a few weeks ago) that fully justifies its inclusion on this countdown.
I’ll add here that I am quite fascinated by this:
In this final image, he is a classic portrait of Devdas, the most famous tragic lover in all of Indian cinema, a man who turned to alcohol to drown out his sorrow. This tragic figure of Zampano also shares a bond with Vijay in Guru Dutt’s Pyaasa.
Sam, thank you very much for those kind words. Quite generous.
I had to go with a different approach as a lot has been written about this film over the decades. Therefore, I decided to tailor it for this countdown. Of course, as you mention, Jim wrote a definite piece on this a few weeks ago. I can finally read his piece now as I wanted to avoid it until I had finished writing this one.
This is a brilliant review, Sachin. Sure everyone has their own way of approaching their writing, you have made an air-tight case for the elusive romanticism that was realized when it was too late. I read every word.
Thanks a lot Peter. I wanted to make it different to add something that would not have been written about a film that has had pretty much everything written about it.
This series is building up for me a massive to-be-watched list, and you’ve just added another to it. Many thanks for a marvelous, revelatory piece.
Thanks John. I have also been building my to-see list from the pieces that have gone up so far.
Sachin this a very fine piece. I actually like the argument you lay out for the romantic angle in this film. I’m not much a fan of this film for whatever reason. I saw it many years ago and wasn’t that impressed by it. It’s likely time for a revisit. I will need to see it again before I would be able to comment any more fully on it. I don’t ever recall thinking of it as much of a romance, but again, you make a good case for it.
Thanks Jon. I completely understand your sentiment. My memory of this film turned out to be quite different from when I last saw it more than a decade ago. It turned out that I mistook some images of Giulietta Masina’s character in La Strada with her character in Nights of Cabiria, especially the last frame from that film. Having seen La Strada recently, I can’t believe I had fused those images together but I blame the smile that her character has in both films. It truly felt like watching a different film altogether. And a nice DVD print helped as opposed to the VHS tape I last saw it on.
Sachin, it is very easy to mistake images from LA STRADA and NIGHTS.
To me, La Strada is basic early Fellini — a good place to start with this particular filmmaker — and one of my favorite Fellini films. My view is that the film is all about love, with scene after scene depicting the nuts and bolts of what a relationship is about. That Zampano doesn’t recognize this until the end, when Gelsomina is gone, is of course the tragedy of which you speak, sachin. I believe Fellini is making a feminist statement here in terms of romantic relationships.
The Fool presents a male persona in direct contrast to Zampano. The Fool is not foolish: He understands and respects Gelsomina. His teasing is only to help nudge her toward valuing herself.
I find the ending sequence, culminating on the beach, to be one of the most powerful examples of cinema ever filmed. Quinn’s wordless acting is excellent here, and the use of imagery (waves caressing his head as he lies on the sand) and music (the main theme) provide us with the emotion that has been gradually building under the surface up to the explosive, “watershed” climax.