Cinema Paradiso

What a piece of work is Giuseppe Tornatore's Cinema Paradiso (1988)! It's a confounding, maddening film that alternates from being a truly great piece of work and an insipid, sappily maudlin melodrama. I am reviewing the theatrical cut, not the 170+ minute version released a few years back; perhaps some of these problems are alleviated on the "new" version? Given past history with after-the-fact "reduxes" like, say, Apocalypse Now, I find that a doubtful proposition; if this cut of the film was good enough for the Oscars and the Cannes Film Festival, it's good enough for me.

Salvatore "Toto" DiVita (played by Salvatore Cascio, Marco Leonardi and Jacques Perrin at various ages) is a kid growing up in post-WWII Sicily who is fascinated by cinema; it is not only an obsession, but his entire life. He gives up time as an altar boy and student to help Alfredo (Philippe Noiret) run the projector in the local theater. Toto helps Alfredo rebuild the theater after a fire, and finds himself drifting towards a directing career, while trying to nourish a budding romance with the pretty Elena (Agnese Nano). Toto eventually moves on to Rome, becoming a famous director, but returns for Alfredo's funeral, finding everything has changed.

Cinema Paradiso has so many virtues that it's easy to understand its glowing reputation. The technical aspects are without peer: Tornatore's wonderful direction, Blasco Giurato's beautiful, evocative cinematography and Ennio Morricone's poignant, awe-inspiring score make it easy to like. It is a valentine to movies and moviegoing that I am susceptible too; although some of the theater scenes are undoubtedly broad (the running battle between working class and rich viewers, teenagers masturbating to Brigitte Bardot), it probably gives the best portrayal of "watching people watching people watching films" imaginable - the wonder, the awe, the pleasure of movie-going, its ability to enrapture and move an audience beyond compare. Especially after the recent obnoxiousness of Inglourious Basterds, it's nice to see a film that views cinema and film-going with such reverence, love and wonder, rather than covering it with bloody, self-serving irreverence. In this regard, Tornatore's film is a triumph.

However, the movie unquestionably falls down storywise. The early scenes are the best, full of poignance, humor and enjoyable wonder; coupled with the gorgeous imagery and music, they make for engrossing viewing. The movie eventually stumbles with a shallow, ludicrous movie romance (where the lovers fall for each other after exchanging ten words, with Toto engaging in creepy stalker behavior) which is quickly and unceremoniously dropped. The movie doesn't really pick up after that, and the latter sections sputter to a maudlin, dull stop as Toto visits his old town (I can only imagine the uncut version being even worse). Still, the movie returns to its best attributes - the joy of watching cinema - for the finale, and thus ends on a transcendent note.

The movie's technical aspects have already been touched upon. Tornatore's direction is beautiful, capturing gorgeous landscapes, the hardscrabble Sicilian town, and the sheer pleasure of movie-going without peer. Morricone's score is unbelievably beautiful, driving even the film's more sappy moments, even if the famous Love Theme is a bit overused. The acting is just okay. Philippe Noiret gives by far the best performance, adding the right mixture of humor, poignance and weariness to Alfredo. Marco Leonardi and Agnese Nano are pretty bland, Jacques Perrin has a glorified cameo and Salvatore Cascio is cute but perhaps too much of a "movie kid" to be believable.

So, I'm ambivalent on Cinema Paradiso. Perhaps a rewatch, or a viewing of the "New" version, would improve my opinion, but I have only so many hours in the day. As it is, I'll take it as a fascinating and beautiful film, but not a wholly satisfying experience. All it does is make me thankfully that I've given up attributing an arbitrary rating to my reviews.