Love and Anarchy (1973)

Good God. Careful with Film d'amore e d'anarchia, ovvero stamattina alle 10 in via dei Fiori nella nota casa di tolleranza... (A film about love and anarchy, that is, this morning at 10 o'clock in Fiori Street, in the well-known whorehouse...; but more often, Love and Anarchy) - it's intense as hell.

It's also very good, and probably Lina Wertmüller's most gripping, gut-wrenching film. Stripping away all the bizarre humor that lightened and spiced up her later hits, Film d'amore e d'anarchia is a straight, sober look at one of Italy's most terrible periods: the rise of Fascism in the 1920s. We follow a few days in the life of the freckle-faced, wide-eyed country boy, Tonino (Giancarlo Giannini), who has come to the big city with plans to assassinate Mussolini. He's taken in by an anarchist prostitute, Salomè (Mariangela Melato). The whorehouse is a bawdy circus, full of sex jokes and impromptu guitar singing. Tonino, visibly out of his depth, is taken in by the prostitutes, who protect him and bicker over him and mock him. Eventually, he falls in love with the equally young Tripolina (Lina Polito).

But, even amidst this atmosphere of fun and frolic, the clock is ticking. The long shadow of Fascism looms, and things become increasingly edgy as the date of the assassination approaches. This slow crescendo of tension builds and builds, creating a sense of terrible foreboding.

A number of films have shown the quotidian nightmare of Fascist Italy: Una giornata particolare explored the day Mussolini and Hitler met in Rome, as seen via two "outsiders", played by Marcello Mastroianni and Sofia Loren, stranded in a deserted suburban apartment building. Roma città aperta and General della Rovere explored wartime, occupied Italy. Film d'amore e d'anarchia fits neatly into this subgenre, in that - like Una giornata particolare, we experience the city under Fascist rule: and it's alien, ugly, oppressive. We see extensive shots of Mussolini's planned communities, such as EUR, with their enormous, repressive architecture. The streets are all empty. Everyone seems unfriendly and on edge.

Also, like Roma città aperta and General della Rovere, Fascist power seems unconquerable, terrifying. The feeling of initial resistance followed by deep fear ("I'm shitting myself," Tonino repeatedly quails. "You can't imagine how scared I am.") followed by absolute desperation is perfectly captured in these films. Indeed, we spent much of the film anxious and upset, almost unable to watch it to the (inevitable) sorry conclusion. This isn't the post-war world of C'eravamo tanto amati, where the partisan fight - having been won - is suddenly seen as nostalgic and noble. Instead, this is narrow, terrifying insecurity. Indeed, that feeling of pervasive terror lingers - we still feel it now, having just finished the film, and we're reminded of another Antonio, the relatively luckier resistance fighter played by Nino Manfredi in C'eravamo tanto amati, who has a great few lines about it:

Listen, Luciana: when you've risked your life with someone, you remained attached to them. It's as if time doesn't pass, and that person could still save you. As if we're not out of danger yet.

Highly recommended. Follow with the lightest chaser you can find - something like this or maybe this or maybe just a glass of water and a nap.

Travolti da un insolito destino nell'azzurro mare d'agosto (1974)

Travolti da un insolito destino nell'azzurro mare d'agosto (literally, Swept away by an unusual destiny in the blue sea of August or, more often just, Swept Away) is, in some ways, the classic "holiday from our lives" story. Just like the preceding PPCCed film, Una giornata particolare, Swept Away follows the initial clashing and eventual romance between a decidedly odd couple. A recent Hollywoodified remake was attempted by Guy Ritchie, with Madonna and Giancarlo Giannini's son, Adriano, in the leading roles - by most accounts, it was a terrible film that managed to suck all of the substance out of the original.


The film's palette is full of bright blues, earthy tones and white. Makes you want to fly to the Mediterranean RIGHT NOW!

Because the original Swept Away isn't just about two beautiful "opposites" attracting on a deserted island paradise. It's something complicated, provocative, erotically charged, funny, intelligent and insane. It manages to mix up 1970s Italian sociopolitics, regional racism, gender relations and human psychology into a tale that is at times outrageous, at times tender, and always very funny. The eventual love affair between the southern Communist Gennarino (Giancarlo Giannini) and the snobbish northern Raffaella (Mariangela Melato) isn't easy to relate to or understand, but it does make you laugh and even cry (a little!).

Somewhere in the glittering blue Mediterranean, there is a yacht full of rich, fashionable couples from Milan (Italy's industrial and business center). One of the Milanese women is Raffaella (Mariangela Melato), an entitled, snobbish princess-type who gets into energetic arguments with the other Milanese over those "awful Communists". There is a small group of poor, southern Italian workers on the yacht who tend to the northerners' whims - one of these meridionali is Gennarino (Giancarlo Giannini). Gennarino is a card-carrying member of the Communist Party and he grows increasingly infuriated to listen to Raffaella's talk. "It's like someone paid her to piss me off!" he hisses in private to one of his colleagues. And even worse: Raffaella steps all over him, complaining that his coffee is just reheated, his pasta is overcooked and his shirts are smelly and need to be changed when he serves her.


The bitchy and entitled Raffaella (Mariangela Melato).

One morning, when Raffaella demands that Gennarino take her out in the motorboat for a quick swim, the motor dies and they find themselves adrift in the wide, lonely sea. After several days, they land on a tiny, deserted island and Gennarino, finally fed up with Raffaella's bitchiness, explodes with rage, tells her off and stalks away. Since Gennarino is much better at coping in the harsh conditions, Raffaella eventually finds herself begging him to let her have some of his food. And Gennarino, taking advantage of his suddenly powerful position, abuses, blackmails and enslaves Raffaella. And thus begins their tumultuous, bizarre, slightly sadomasochistic affair.


One of the funniest moments: when Gennarino (Giancarlo Giannini) wakes up to find himself, ahem, adorned in flowers.

Much of the "romance" is really about power struggles. Just like the uncomfortable lovemaking scenes in Ang Lee's recent Lust, Caution, Gennarino and Raffaella's bedroom (okay, beach) is where all the power struggles are played out, often violently. It's not just about kinkiness or Stockholm syndrome, it's about the power struggles between the rich North and poverty-stricken South, the mainstream, "industrialist" Democrazia Cristiana Party and the opposition Communist Party, the master and servant, man and woman.


Aww!

That's not to say that the romance isn't also oddly touching. We knew about the film's themes before watching it, and we never imagined we'd find ourselves almost rooting for Gennarino and Raffaella. For example, there is a scene when a boat comes by the island and only Raffaella sees it. Rather than calling to it, she - properly swept away by her new love for Gennarino - hides until it leaves. And we at the PPCC found this moment utterly romantic! "I didn't want this to end!" she sobs to him later. Indeed, while the spark was a somewhat perverted and sadomasochistic attraction, loaded with all those sociopolitical issues, their love eventually becomes remarkably sweet and simple. It's never saccharine though - the end makes sure of that, when the sociopolitics and reality come marching back.

This is a much-loved Italian classic, and the performances by Giancarlo Giannini and Mariangela Melato are fondly remembered by everyone we talk to - heck, the DVD cover calls this their best work EVER. Both Giannini and Melato have appealing, if unconventional, looks - a bit laconic hangdog for him and bumblebee doll for her - and yet in this film they are glamorous and glittering in a primal, sun-drenched way. We've always been a bit mystified by the glassy-eyed praise Giancarlo Giannini's beauty gets on YouTube comment pages. Adorable and lovably cute, yes, but sex god, uh...? And yet, after this film, we can see why people might go a bit crazy for him.

DVD Bonus!: The Italian DVD of this film contains interviews with the director, Lina Wertmuller, and lead actress, Mariangela Melato. The Melato interview is a hoot - she proclaims that the remake was trash and that she was definitely "più bona" (hotter) than Madonna, and she tells how apparently the weather was frigid and, to stay warm, she and Giannini drank grappa in their morning cappuccinos and spent most of the shooting "rincoglioniti" (befuddled).

(P.S. The review entitled "Screwball Comedy, Italian Style" by Arriflex1 on the IMDb comments page for this film is more concise than ours and spot-on!)