Il conformista

To be everything is nothing. To go against what you cherish the most is the symbolic gesture of weakness. The brilliant story telling of the young and passionate Bernardo Bertolucci remains as vivid and powerful as the first time I saw it - 15 years ago, when I was 21 - The film is 41 years old now and I can only imagine the effect it had in its day. For me, it became a point of reference and to see it again is a shattering scramble of emotions. Jean Louis Trintignat is extraordinary and Stefania Sandrelli is superb as the mediocre, petite bourgeois wife. The art direction by Ferdinando Scarfiotti and the photography by Vittorio Storaro are, quite simply, without equal. I was very moved by the appearance of Pierre Clemeti as the ambiguous Lino. A film to visit and re-visit.

Bernardo Bertolucci's stunning early-1970s classic looks absolutely beautiful nearly forty years later. It tells the story of a fascist in 1930s Italy who is assigned to root out and assassinate anti-fascists. As the story develops, we learn that a childhood event played a large role in shaping this man's perception of himself, and that the life he is leading is largely a lie.

The story Bertolucci tells is odd and compelling, but what kept me glued to the television screen was the film's mesmerizing visual style. Bertolucci collaborated with cinematographer Vittorio Storaro, and it's not an exaggeration to say that they create some of the most beautiful images I've ever seen in a film. One might expect Bertolucci to adopt a sombre color palette for telling such a gloomy story, but that's not the case. On the contrary, he opts for lush colors, striking contrasts, and stylized lighting to create a slightly surrealistic environment that's one small step removed from reality as we know it.

A truly remarkable movie.

Grade: A+

What I like most about this film is its visual style, owing to great art direction, and great color photography from famed cinematographer Vittorio Storaro. In particular, those huge, empty rooms; those tilted lines; that expansive outdoor platform with the Eiffel Tower in the background; that indoor restaurant with its red-outlined windows are all examples of places in the film that make a profound impression on the eyes. The stunning visuals are helped along by a galloping score, and by terrific 1930's music, especially the song "Whose Happier Than I?"

By contrast, I found the film's story to be less interesting. Marcello Clerici (Jean-Louis Trintignant) is a weak-willed man who feels different from others, in part because of an unfortunate childhood experience. His aim therefore is to be like everyone else, or at least to convey publicly an "impression of normalcy". Toward that objective, he becomes a fascist, a popular political brand in 1930's Italy. He journeys to Paris, where most of the story is set. The film's theme is very political, and wonderfully anti-fascist.

While the film's underlying concept is intriguing, the plot is dense and convoluted. It is helped not at all by jarring editing, and by a screenplay structure that relies too much on flashbacks. Further, most of the characters are not very likable. Marcello himself is both dull and too passive. His love interest is Giulia, a shallow, giggly young woman I found annoying. I did like the reference to Plato's Cave, a metaphor that directly relates to Marcello's predicament.

As a result of the cinematography and the cold weather, the tone of the film is generally bleak and dreary, consistent with the mindset of the film's protagonist. This is not a movie to watch when wanting to feel cheery or upbeat.

Because "The Conformist" is set in a bygone era, the story may not appeal to some viewers. However, its valid historical perspective adds depth to our understanding of twentieth century European politics. And with its great cinematography, art design, period piece costumes and background music, the film is worth at least a one-time viewing.

What is most amazing about The Conformist is it's cinematography and angles.

Director Bertolucci and Cinematographer Storraro have created a masterpiece of form by using light, camera angles, and character positioning.

The architecture dwarfs the characters as they try to make sense of their existence during Italy's fascist period (1930's). They are placed theatrically at times creating a balance of space.

The Conformist is the most stunning film visually I have ever seen. Every scene is immaculate, kind of surreal, almost to rich for the senses to take in one viewing.

The story is somewhat difficult on the first viewing but one can figure the basic plot line. It is a story about repression and oppression, about nationality, political beliefs during a paradigm shift. It is about acceptance and avoidance. It is about playing it safe in a time of tension.

The final scene suggests what the main character might have become had he chose the truth. It is left up to us to judge him and realize that it is sort of a catch 22; either way, he would have ended up in that dark place where a fascist country would mentally place same sex love.

See this film to see the potential of the beauty of film.

Conform or not to Conform? That is the Question.

The Conformist (1970)

Well, the reputation this movie has for visual brilliance is well earned. There are whole scenes, lasting just seconds, that are breathtaking not only for the setting (or the sets) but for the way it's composed, a pair of figures in one place, a different scenario (and light) in the background. It's endlessly fascinating and evolving, this play of space and light and figures (actors, yes) moving through it all.

It's also so stylized it becomes a force of its own, above the plot, which has its own kind of surreal fragmentation. So the end result is simply being there, somewhere, and having events twirl around you. This is almost enough. It's magical and moving and simply beautiful. The cinematographer was Vittorio Stararo, in one of his first films. He has worked with the director, Bernardo Bertolucci, on a whole bunch of films ("Last Tango in Paris" might be the most famous for American viewers), and also with other directors for some of their masterpieces: "Apocalypse Now" and "Reds" are just two.

This large, controlling, sometimes self-serving style might not suit everyone, but it does me. And in this case ("The Conformist") it's actually the strongest element. The rest of the movie is really a little bit of a mixed bag. That the end result is pretty fabulous is a testament to making some odd pieces fit, or not fit, perfectly.

What doesn't become clear for some time is the point of the title, which is the moving, significant point of the movie: the main character survives Fascist Italy and then post-War, anti-Fascist Italy, but "conforming," which is to say, he doesn't have particular beliefs, but he knows what will get him to survive. And for him, survival is all that matters, even if it means a watered down life. His professor of many years earlier is just the opposite, and is a kind of hero and de-facto enemy to him. This professor has left Italy in order to fight Mussolini, and he has to face death threats as a consequence.

It's always interesting when the main character, this blow-with-the-wind Marcello, is not especially admirable or even interesting. He is surrounded by some quirky and inevitably interesting people, for sure, but even the two most important of these, his wife and his lover, are kind of symbolic and slightly unaffected types. I mean unaffected by all this terrible stuff going on in the lead up to the War.

And so the end result is we are less affected than you would expect. Or like. Yes, I know this movie gets hugely appreciative reviews, and I think it's for the ambiance, and for the big anti-Fascist message (which is smart and powerful and I agree with). But as a drama between people trying to find themselves, to love the right people, to accomplish a violent political crime, it remains distant, at least most of the time.

Another thing to note: even though the titles are in English, this was and is an Italian movie, with dialog in Italian and a little French. You'll find the sound is awkwardly dubbed--and I mean dubbed in the original language, a looseness of lip-synching that just wouldn't make it in Hollywood (and which you see in other earlier Italian films). Because in fact the dialog is often re-recorded later in movies like this (for superior sound, or because there was too much ambient interference), the synching becomes an issue. Ignore it if you can. It bugged me sometimes.

Overall, yes, this is a kind of masterpiece--flawed, a little bit at arm's length, but stunning, too, and with an important theme.