Wednesday 16 June 2010

58. The Conformist

This was on TV earlier this year, but I only got round to watching it at the weekend. It's Bernardo Bertolucci's 1970 film* about fascist Italy and one man struggling with his place in it.

The most obvious and immediate quality about it is how incredible it looks. In the early scenes we see enormous sets depicting various government buildings. Many are quite surreal, for example this is apparently a mental asylum:



Towards the end we get this stunningly lit scene in the snowy woods:



Everything about the film is designed immaculately for both visual and emotional appeal but it's not just a pretty face — there's depth to it too.

The surreal start isn't limited to just the sets. It takes a while to understand exactly what is going on and the mixing about of time periods and use of disorienting camera angles doesn't help things. Of course, this is all very deliberate as these are the sequences set in Italy. Once they cross the border into France things become more conventional and the story begins to become a bit clearer.

The conformist of the title, a man called Clerici, isn't exactly one of cinema's great heroes. He's a sexually confused product of a drug addict and a lunatic and, like most sexually confused products of drug addicts and lunatics, he just wants to lead a normal life. Unfortunately in 1930's Italy this means becoming a slave to the fascist state, a role he nevertheless embraces. How Clerici deals with the sacrifice of his ideals is what the piece is about, but you won't see him unshackle himself, overcome his oppressors, kill Mussolini, and flee to freedom on a tropical island — it's much more realistic than that and consequently much more cynical.

It also has blind people having a fight.


* I should probably use the word "masterpiece" here, but I suspect that such clichés will get a bit repetitive after a while.

No comments:

Post a Comment