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Rating: Hello people, the "minor" cinema, like the one I examine for and with you in my modest lines on Debaser, does not necessarily coincide - as you must have understood by now - with the "trash" genre, but designates everything that, in our beloved country, escapes the praise of major and militant critics, being forgotten until it is promptly recovered by yours truly, Il_Paolo.
Since we are in the mood for recovery and recycling, let's move to the most interesting part of our Peninsula for this purpose, ideally traveling to Naples and its musical and cinematic scene: the older ones among you will remember how in the early 1980s, the Neapolitan cultural scene was in particular ferment, to the point of speaking of a sort of artistic "renaissance." Among its protagonists were musicians like the Bennato brothers, Enzo Avitabile, Tullio de Piscopo, Enzo Gragnaniello, Tony Esposito, the defectors of the combo Napoli Centrale led by James Senese, and the then supreme Pino Daniele; not to mention the actors from the trio "La Smorfia," consisting of the unforgettable Massimo Troisi, backed by the funny Lello Arena and the handsome Enzo Decaro, who is now used to a lot of television fiction.
After the breakup of "La Smorfia" and the promising debut of the young prodigy Troisi in "Ricomincio da tre", in the same 1982, there was the idea to support Lello Arena's own cinematic debut, in a leading role in the comedy with a hint of mystery that I comment on here. The subject and, in part, the script of the work were by Troisi, his longtime associate, who reserves a not secondary door for himself in the same film, illuminating it with his mask.
Arena was undoubtedly likable, with the "physique du role" of the clumsy type, and in the '80s he was often exploited by cinema and television because, compared to Troisi, he offered a less cerebral and more direct comedy, more physical and, if you will, more tied to the Neapolitan cliché than that of the great Massimo. However, his star quickly declined, demonstrating in the medium term how his comedy was less effective than that of his friend Troisi, often reducing itself to sheer caricature in contrast to the more troubled (and "philosophical") worldview of the companion who passed away in '94.
It is in this context, and based on the highlighted premises, that this film can be (re)watched and analyzed.
The story, in fact, revolves around a mysterious killer, renamed "Funiculì Funiculà," who, in the name of Neapolitan tradition, sows death among the young artists - musicians and actors - that make up the new Neapolitan scene, symbolizing a reaction to novelty, also seen as a betrayal of a certain idea of art at the slopes of Vesuvius. The journalist from "Mattino" played by Lello Arena witnesses the events, while Troisi - in the role of himself - is one of the killer's victims, whose identity will be revealed, not without surprise, to the audience.
Despite Troisi's participation and Arena's good form, along with the beautiful performance by Maddalena Crippa as the female lead of the film, in my opinion, this work does not turn out to be entirely successful and interesting, except for the sociological and cultural flashes it returns to us, in describing the tension between tradition and modernity in early '80s Naples. Which, ironically, sounds like a jest from Troisi and Arena towards those who, at their debut, might have criticized them for the "novelty" of their representations, as indeed the metropolitan blues of Daniele and Senese was opposed, so jarring with local tradition.
The film does not convince, and justly so, it has partly been removed by critics and the audience (except for aficionados) precisely because it is undecided in developing the mystery plot - not trivial in itself, though ultimately pretentious - and in accentuating the comedic traits of the story, mixing in a wavering manner both genres. While Arena immerses himself in the role, Troisi as a sidekick works just halfway, being an actor who, to express himself best, needed to occupy the center of the scene and be the motor of gags of companions puzzled by his abstract musings: the only masterstroke he gives us here is the brief "monologue on Rovigo."
The direction is average, leaving no particular memories and serving strictly the plot and the story told, sometimes with verve, other times, let's say it, with a certain tedium.
Not a film to be completely dismissed then, but a "minor" film that today could be rediscovered, if only because it testifies to an era of renewal, and mocks the thinking of some traditionalists, perhaps precisely those jesters. And then they say Naples shouldn't change.
Traditionally Yours
Il_Paolo
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