(Italy 1988/1994 174m) DVD1/2
The lost kisses of youth
p Franco Cristaldi d/w Giuseppe Tornatore ph Blasco Giurato ed Mario Morra m Ennio Morricone (and Andrea Morricone) art Andrea Crisanti
Jacques Pérrin (Salvatore “Toto” di Vita), Salvatore Cascio (Boy Toto), Philippe Noiret (Alfredo), Mario Leonardi (Young Toto), Brigitte Fossey (Older Elena), Antonella Attili (Maria – young), Enzo Cannavale (Spaccafico), Leopoldo Trieste (Father Adelfio), Isa Danieli (Anna), Agnese Nano (Elena), Pupella Maggio (Maria), Nicola di Pinto (Square madman), Leo Gullota (Bill sticker), Roberta Lena (Lia),
Cinema Paradiso is surely one of the most beloved foreign language films in the English speaking world. It holds a special entry in that select list of subtitled classics that have made the transition to popular cinema, also bidding fair to the title of most nostalgic film of all time. In its native Italy, though well enough liked, it’s generally perceived by local critics to be no better than another virtually concurrent piece of cine-nostalgia, Ettore Scola’s Splendor. So do we have the wrong film selected here? Well, if it were the original cut, there would be a case for such an argument. I always found the original slightly too sugary, slightly too sentimental, with the final scene that has become one of the greatest in all cinema seeming a little too saccharine for my tastes. The longer version, however, is a far richer experience, a mournful study not just of childhood rekindled, but also lost, of innocence stolen away and of love extinguished by time. It may be a lucky fluke for its director, who has certainly not made anything half as rich again, but that should not deny it a place here. Anyone who sees it will not forget the journey made by young Toto, from his childhood as an altar boy (played by the unforgettable Salvatore Cascio) to his first love, military service and eventually leaving for the mainland to become a filmmaker.
Flashbacks confirm to us that he had made it as a filmmaker, that he is unmarried and quite a ladies man. We also know that he hasn’t spoken to his mother very often, and she has only rung up to tell him that a man called Alfredo has died. We spend the next 2½ hours finding out who this Alfredo was, and find ourselves in awe of this man. For decades he has been the projectionist at the rundown village cinema, a cinema then still under the control of the Catholic church, who censor all romantic scenes of kissing and nudity (killjoys!). He memorises entire speeches and quotes from movies, applying their adages to real life, until the moment when he realises that his beloved Toto must see life through his own eyes, not those of his idols on the screen. The relationship between this old, illiterate man and the small boy is one of the greatest in all world cinema, but it’s only when one sees the extra scenes in adolescence and far more of his return for the funeral (where Jacques Perrin’s token turn from the original becomes something altogether richer and Brigitte Fossey appears at all, having been originally cut) we see its true depth. The cinema is the hub of the community; boys come to ogle a naked Brigitte Bardot in Et Dieu Créa la Femme (though that film comes to the Paradiso two years before it was made!) and jerk off in the front row (as they may well do now for Ludivine Sagnier), another man comes just to spit on those below him, while a prostitute comes to service her clients who have sex with her ever so politely from behind. Yet no-one complains. They just get in line.
The final scene is indeed the stuff of legend, a montage of censored clips that represent the romantic history of cinema in a nutshell, from Silvana Mangano’s shapely thighs in the rice fields of the Po Valley in Riso Amaro to George Bailey and Mary Hatch in It’s a Wonderful Life. It’s the fact that we now know how Toto lost his true love, but briefly found her again, perfectly complemented by Ennio Morricone’s score, that makes this especially poignant. However, top prize must go to Philippe Noiret as the sort of man who would have made any life the richer for knowing him. He could say more with a shrug than most actors could with a Shakespearean speech, which is just as well because he can’t speak Italian and his entire performance was dubbed. Now that’s acting!
For a rare moment, Fish, you and I are in total agreement. Tornatore’s longer cut of “Cinema Paradiso” is one of the signature film experiences of the 80’s. It takes what was good in the sometimes hollow “Amarcord” and fixes it to a story that’s as universal as it is personal. And you’re quite right in singling out Noiret for his job here, one of the best dubbed performances this side of Burt Lancaster in “The Leopard”. One of the few memoir-films that rises above mere nostalgia.
Ok. I LIKE THIS MOVIE. But I’ll stress LIKE. I don’t LOVE this film as so many do. If you were to mention this film in any way other than passionate love on Oscar Night in the Juliano household with the group of friends that gather for the festivities and discussion of film they would string you up and burn your body. However, and Sammy knows of my long standing position on this film, while I think its expertly crafted, I also think its expertly manipulative. I just find its sweetness too much to bear at times and its predictability very obvious. I know I’m in the minority here, and I do agree its a classic of its kind. But I wouldn’t cry if I never saw it again. There’s just something a little smug in the way it wraps itself up so perfectly. Saccharine would be the best adjective.
I recently rewatched the SPECIAL EDITION on the big plasma at Schmulee’s house and I have to stand firm in my position. I find it entertaining and nostalgic, and I think its a rare film about the love for and power of film. But, just because I’m an intense lover of movies doesn’t mean I should be drawn to this like metal shavings to a magnet. I think this is a flawed classic, far too sweet in the end for its own good. I have nothing more to say about this film (aside praise for Allan’s fine essay. I’m done with CINEMA PARADISO.
This one has always struck a cord with me mainly because I had a similar friendship, where a guy that everybody else perceived as gruff took me under his wing… granted this involved learning to play golf, not movies, but it’s the same general idea! I also had a similar regretful ending, where when he died we hadn’t spoken in a while (no falling out or anything, just both getting busy), which I carry with me to this day as the biggest regret of my entire life. So while I can understand where Dennis is coming from in feeling its a bit too sweet, it still works for me because I can certainly relate to the storyline on a personal level.
That’s a lovely, deeply-moving remembrance there Dave, and one that surely captures the essence of this universal work. Thanks so much for sharing it, but I know it’s painful.
Dave – I think your moving comment displays the power that a film can have. How certain works can connect so personally with each individual’s life experience. It is similar to our recent discussion on your site about “Apocalypse Now”, the music of The Doors (The End) and my own experience. It is something you never forget. Thanks!
Thanks guys. As crazy as it might sound, I think part of the reason I didn’t rank this one quite as high as you guys (I think I had it around #20) was that I don’t watch that much because it reminds of me of feeling guilty. Still, an outstanding film for sure.
Wow! Bob and Allan actually agreeing for a moment! It nust be getting ready to snow! LOL! Well, I’ll enjoy this minor truce for the moment and praise CINEMA PARADISO for bringing these two together for agreement. Of course, I’m just waiting for Bob to tie Darth Vader, George Lucas and STAR WARS into this film somehow and start the whole shit war all over again! LOL! Bob, you have the floor!
Nice try, Dennis. Tornatore’s references go all over the map, but they stay primarily on European films from the 30’s to the 60’s, with a few American pictures making the leap across the Atlantic. I only bring Lucas into the conversation when I feel there’s a strong reference point, and this being the 80’s, it’s bound to happen at least a few more times than some people would like. But this isn’t one of those moments.
Oh, I can understand your connection Dave. Absolutely with you on that. Film has a way of speaking differently to different people. Where I love certain films passsionately I don’t always expect everyone to have the same feelings. If CINEMA PARADISO works for you then I say BRAVO! Just as I’m sure some people think that the deliberate pacing of BARRY LYNDON comes off as tedious and boring to most, I happen to love that fuilm precisely for it. I’m always amazed how movies touch people.
No Bobby, it wasn’t a “nice try” to start anything. I’m merely referencing the fact that your record stands at almost 90% for bringing good ole George in somehow. If he doesn’t surface here I’m sure he’ll surface as assuredly as the shark in JAWS elsewhere. Again, I’m not trying to stir up anything. Just merely pointing out the facts that your track record preceeds you. Don’t take offense. I don’t know what I’d do without you here on the night shift. If anything, I’ll always praide you to high heaven for keeping things lively at WitD. Night guys, turning to bed now.
I didn’t mean any offense either, Dennis. Funny, sarcasm never seems to translate too well on the internet…
Few films in the history of the cinema have moved me to the emotional heights that this wholly exhilarating and infectiously nostalgic film has, yet it’s another that a small minority still manage to resist. True, th etagline of the “movie for real movie lovers” might be a threatening coda for those who embrace subtlety, but it’s power to open the tear ducts with reckless abandon is all part of it’s singular charm. Allan’s placement here seems blasphemous (it is my own #2 choice) but again I acknowledge his still lofty placement as an acknowledgement of it’s status as a masterwork. The film’s exquisite score by Ennio Morricone is a prime purveyor of the the elegiac tone, but beyond that as others here have rightly celebrated it is Tornatore’s heartfelt story of a small town in transition that most will relate to for all sorts of reasons. It’s funny, romantic and ultimately heart breaking, but it most of all expresses the spirit and essence of Italian cinema in it’s deep emotions and the fleeting nature of happiness and fond memories.
This film was screened at the official closing of our nearby Ridgefield Park Rialto, and I cried yet again as I have every time I’ve seen it, for both it’s universal message and the correlating domestic event that will always have it’s own priceless memories.
I wanted SO badly to review this myself, but wasn’t about to step on Allan’s feet. As it turns out his “send-off” here was utterly magnificent.
Tornatore’s second-best film in my view is the critically misunderstood THE LEGEND OF 1900, which again showcases ravishing music by Morricone.
No, The Legend of 1900 is mediocre. I’d take Everybody’s Fine and the full cut of Malèna over it, though neither of those are by any means special.
“Everybody’s Fine” is a pretty decent movie, as well. Helped tremendously by a great late-period performance by Marcello Mastroianni. I wonder (or perhaps wish) if there’s a longer cut of that, somewhere. “Legend of 1900” is a movie that is almost great– it aims for fairy-tale splendor in a period that’s ripe for the fantastical stylings of cross-Atlantic magical realism. But it doesn’t work, sadly– at least not in the 2 hour version I’ve seen. I’m assuming that you’ve seen the full version, Fish, but part of me wants to hold out on the hope that it might work better. I can certainly see the movie that Tornatore was aiming for. An almost-great, but a case where “almost” makes it all the more painful that it didn’t quite get there.
I love this film and ranked it # 3 on my list. I have yet to see the Special Edition but will have to seek it out. Granted it is a bit saccharine but sometimes that ok.
I’ve never considered it to be saccharine, but I can understand why others may seem to find it so. After all the mournful events and personal tragedies depicted, to have that glorious ending and Morricone’s bitter-sweet score leave it on a romantic uplift, it might be considered so. It’s the same charge directed at ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’, one of the bleakest, noirifyed existential explorations into community. The darker the journey, the greater the light at the end of the tunnel. Allan, what’s the ‘Splendour’ film like, to which it’s compared.
PS: thanks on the notifcation of the release of ‘Wessex Tales’
It’s some time since I saw Splendor, Bobby, probably on BBC2 or Channel 4 in their World Cinema strand. I remember it was good, but I preferred CP.
The first (and last) time I saw this was in my high school film class back in 1995. I remember enjoying it and that it obviously meant a lot to our teacher, but as students I don’t think we were able to have the appropriate appreciation for it, seeing as how our favorite films were likely Tommy Boy and Terminator 2 at the time and most of us simply didn’t have that overwhelming love of film.
All of this is to say that I think it’s time to try it again as an older, wiser person and I’m glad it’s been brought back to my attention.