Liliana Cavani
I cannibali

Recently, I noticed how, for any director, there tends to be a reference to the most famous and successful films, while other works that deserve more attention are labeled as minor.

For example, if I mention an Italian director of unquestionable value like Liliana Cavani, the mind tends to think of "The Night Porter," which caused a great stir at the time of its release. However, one of her earlier films needs to be rediscovered for the strong and ever-relevant message it conveys, namely "The Cannibals," made in 1969 and distributed the following year after its presentation at the Cannes Festival.

Referencing the subject of Sophocles' "Antigone," Cavani takes us to the contemporary setting of the late '60s in a new, gray, and gloomy Milan, imagining a despotic regime similar to the Thebes of ancient Greece. Particularly, the institutionalized repression has no qualms about suppressing opponents and dissidents (all young and long-haired) and leaving their unburied bodies on the streets of the metropolis with an explicit prohibition on removing them. It's no surprise to notice vehicles passing by, watering the bodies to avoid negative public health consequences. All this happens under the indifferent and cowardly gaze of passersby, who might alert the authorities to any good soul willing to break the government's order not to touch the bodies lying on the pavement.

The protagonist (Antigone, played by Britt Ekland) appears shaken by this hallucinatory situation, also because her brother, a rebel killed by the authorities, lies in the street. And who knows how long he would remain there if, one day, an enigmatic man named Tiresias (Pierre Clementi, a true freak) did not appear to Antigone. He speaks an unknown language, and his signature is a stylized drawing of a fish (a reference to the Christian message?). The two, understanding each other through brief gestures and signals, manage to recover the body of Antigone's brother and give him a proper burial. Moreover, they continue their subversive activity by recovering other bodies. Unfortunately, pursued relentlessly by the authorities (even being chased through the streets of Milan while running completely naked), they have no escape. However, their inevitable punishment by firing squad represents a serious own goal for the established system, as it will not prevent the spread of revolutionary word and action among the young citizens.

Though it has some flaws, such as a rather intrusive soundtrack and inconsistencies in the screenplay (Tiresias and Antigone wear clerical clothing while entering a barracks after being chased naked through the streets), the film successfully captures attention by conveying fundamental themes. It's not only about the narrative in "Antigone," which proposed the dialectic between natural law and the positive law promulgated and applied at the state level. For example, the character of Tiresias, also by actor Clementi's physical appearance, resembles a resurrected Jesus Christ, returned to Earth to judge the living and the dead. It's striking how his message and subsequent action remain revolutionary and disruptive toward modern society.

Above all, by giving the dead a proper burial, a natural principle is reiterated, one that the established power tramples on in the name of maintaining the status quo, also deterring any doubt or rebellion. There's a clear generational contrast, whereby the backers of order are mostly older adults, while the dissidents appear as young people who were dismissively labeled as "long-haired" at the time the film was made.

Essentially, "The Cannibals" is a revolutionary film against certain classic aesthetic canons, in line with the innovative cinema that expressed the youth counterculture of the time. It's no surprise, as Cavani herself recalls, that some reactions from the audience and critics were anything but benevolent, so much so that at the film's premiere, some illustrious spectators (specifically Franco Zeffirelli, a renowned author of glossy and idyllic films) railed, saying that "certain directors should be executed!" Well, could it be that he expressed himself in such terms? He, who verbally declared himself a sincere and profound Christian?

But beyond certain outdated polemics, what still strikes me today when watching "The Cannibals," making it continually relevant, is the effective representation of that atrocious indifference manifested by so many people in the face of blatant atrocities, such as the presence of corpses lying on the asphalt, which are simply stepped over without further thought, even to avoid questioning the established power. It's the same indifference that dulls public opinion—or all of us—in the face of the current drama of migrants knocking on the doors of this seemingly wealthier part of the world. It's like saying that indifference kills more than the sword. And then I'm reminded of what Battiato sang in a song recorded in 1988 titled "Zai Saman": "Void of sense, the West collapses, it will suffocate from greed and an absurd thirst for power, and from the East, hordes of fanatics will arrive."

P.S.: In the above eventuality, recalling a famous song by Dalla, I'm preparing by placing bags of salt on the windowsill, waiting for the year to come...