Ligabue
Radiofreccia

Those interested in cinema know what I'm talking about. Pay attention: in 1998, "Shakespeare In Love" triumphed at the Oscars (winning 7 statuettes, too many!), while small films like "Dr. Akagi" by Shohei Imamura or "Autumn Tale" by Eric Rohmer hover in the lower regions of box office charts. The usual colossal Hollywood blockbusters, "Armageddon," "Saving Private Ryan," and the like, are the ones to triumph. Italian cinema is going through a period of stagnation: questionable yet talented directors like Mario Martone and Roberta Torre see their films sink in the deserted theaters of the Pioltello and Tor Vergata multiplexes during the peak of August, while people with little talent like Leonardo Pieraccioni, for example, enjoy unreasonably astronomical success with entirely negligible films like "Fireworks."

However, upon closer examination, we notice a title at the 24th place in the 1998 Italian box office chart that might make us smile: "Radiofreccia." "Radiofreccia" is a decent nostalgic-dramatic film directed by Luciano Ligabue. Curiously, the film is a dud compared to Eric Rohmer, but it seems to take on a Bergman-like stature when compared to "Fireworks." "Radiofreccia" is not a masterpiece, to be clear; it's an honest tearjerker (drugs, sex, suicides, overdoses, unrequited loves) that Ligabue directed primarily to pay homage to his hometown, Correggio, and secondly to retrace (and make new generations discover) the formative path of free radios in the mid-seventies. Two hours that are, all in all, smooth: very good soundtrack, Stefano Accorsi in his most successful role, jokes about Elvis and James Bond, and the awkward, self-celebratory cameo by Francesco Guccini as a gruff bartender. The unanimous critics shout a miracle. Let’s not exaggerate! But as long as Ligabue had limited himself to directing the film, there would have been nothing to object to (it's his right; after all, if Grignani and Nek have tried their hand at cinema, there’s nothing wrong if Ligabue tries new avenues).

The problem is another: the National Lucianone decides that it is finally time to self-celebrate and, consequently, self-satisfy. "I'm a monument," thinks Ligabue, yet someone should tell him that the monuments are others (see Bob Dylan, for instance) and, shortly after the release of "Radiofreccia" in theaters, he releases in stores and megastores a double album, with the extraordinarily original title "Radiofreccia," in which he attempts philosophical singer-songwriting and nostalgia ridden to the fullest.

The first CD is basically the film's soundtrack, with two unreleased tracks: the disastrous "Ho perso le parole" (stuff that makes the "De Profundis" sound more cheerful and rhythmic) and "Metti in circolo il tuo amore", a clearly De André-inspired song ("And you're at a party but you don't have an invitation, so now you make the invitations. . ."), but, unfortunately for us, Ligabue is not De André, nor will he ever be. The second CD is the best part of all, and, coincidentally, it is the CD in which Ligabue does not sing (a clear sign of how the National Lucianone has lost his musical compass in recent years). It is a 'best of' of all European and American music from the mid-seventies, just to stay on topic with the film's theme. The choices are debatable and almost always questionable: if one wants to retrace the fundamental steps of seventies rock music, it isn’t clear why one should include tracks by Al Stewart or Earth Wind & Fire. Not because they weren't good, quite the opposite, but because there were at least a hundred more valid and historical groups or songwriters than these (some names? Neu, Cat Stevens, Fairport Convention, New York Dolls, Police, and do you really want us to believe there wasn't even a little spot for "Imagine"? Come on!).

However, not everything is to be discarded: good choices of "Rebel Rebel" by David Bowie, the reanimations of somewhat forgotten old giants like Warren Zevon or the Little Feat, and the rightful spaces for timeless classics, "Run Through The Jungle" by Creedence Clearwater Revival, "Vicious" by Lou Reed, and the inevitable "Long Train Running" by the Doobie Brothers. Also interesting are the revivals of Lynyrd Skynyrd and the glam rock of Roxy Music (certainly an important piece in the history of seventies rock music), but sure, from someone like Iggy Pop, one could have frankly chosen a less bland song than "The Passenger," which certainly isn’t among his best works. Surprisingly, there’s a total absence of the Rolling Stones: after all, songs like "Brown Sugar," "Wild Horses," or "Miss You" have been essential pieces in the delicate mosaic of rock from that period. And the Italians? The only evident presence is Francesco Guccini (the cameo in the film was duly rewarded!), but "Incontro," the song chosen by Ligabue, is as beautiful as it is, not symptomatic of the mid-seventies period: perhaps "L'avvelenata" would have been more appropriately coherent. Not a trace of De André, Battisti, Gaber, De Gregori.

"Radiofreccia" (the film I mean) will win several awards and will bring Ligabue to be considered an author, singer-songwriter, musician, director, and screenwriter. I don't know which of these professions he has excelled in the most, but evidently, his bank account must have increased significantly. For sure, he is not a selector: and this self-satisfied and self-referential double album is the best example of it.