Mario Martone
Il giovane favoloso

There is a passage in the film that sheds light on an inescapable issue when talking about Leopardi: one of the critics on the jury tasked with choosing the winner of a certain literary award criticizes the content of Giacomo's works, both for the repetitiveness of the concepts and the pessimism of the thought, but adds at the end that «the style is beautiful». What Martone does is to illustrate, generally, the thoughts and life of the Recanati poet, yet removing the consolation of poetic beauty. Indeed, citations from poems are not abundant, and only L'infinito and La ginestra are recited in their entirety. With the lyrical dimension missing for long stretches, the film is forced to follow the suffering trajectories of the poet's existence; in this way, the film becomes as limping as its protagonist. This is not to express a negative judgment, but to indicate the rhythmic and narrative flow of the work.

When poetry is removed, what is left of Leopardi to tell is his life: Martone focuses on the physical sufferings, which especially dominate the sequences in the second part, but he also tries to illustrate the poet's philosophical system. From an external point of view, Leopardi's figure is well outlined and especially interpreted with passion and measure by the excellent Elio Germano, yet the dimension of Leopardi's thought is marked by sparks and strokes that suggest something but do not manage to show with punctuality the basis and rationality of the poet's pessimism. An example among all: Operette morali are often mentioned, but in a superficial way; they are discussed on various occasions but there is no moment in which the depth and strength of the arguments present in the work are exposed, even synthetically.

This is the film's measure: it does not even touch the idea of truly illustrating Leopardi's thought. It is taken for granted and the focus is preferred on elements easier to reproduce through the cinematographic expressive code. Hence, the aesthetic happiness of the first half, which focuses on the Recanati years of the poet's youth and thrives on his conflicts with his father, the intolerance for the stifling provincial environment and townsfolk, and the desire to live a more lively life. Presenting the macroscopic and extrinsic aspects of the poet's life is a simple task compared to delving into the vast depths of his thought. For this reason, when Martone should have wrapped up the discussion by explaining Leopardi's thought, which is the true protagonist of his life, a sense of absence is felt; it is as if in the second hour of the film the director doesn't really know how to fill the time and then loses himself in a thousand collateral facts, much less important than the evolution of Giacomo's ideas.

It's okay not to succumb to the ease of filling the film with verses from the Canti, but for instance, a few more excerpts from the Operette morali would have added substance to the film: instead, we find ourselves having to witness pessimistic struggles without ever seeing their reasons treated with real depth. As I was saying, Leopardi's philosophy is punctuated here and there with very brief hints, mostly in debates with numerous readers who contest his pessimism. This is not because the audience needs to have an author, whom everyone studies (and appreciates, given the box office numbers), re-explained to them, but for a simple matter of the film's expressive efficacy: it is clear that in a biographical film like this, the purely narrative dimension is strongly muted. There is no resolving ending to aim for, but there are not many plot junctures either; it is evident that everything hinges on depicting a profile, and in many aspects, Martone succeeds, but not in narrating the foundations of his philosophical system.

The emerging human figure is nevertheless well-characterized and touching; the relationship with Fanny is wonderfully narrated, the shy but generous and fervent nature of Leopardi is depicted with touching expressiveness (the crying on the lakeshore with a wide shot is magnificent). And then again, the tender affection that bound him to Pietro Giordani and Ranieri. The love/hate towards his father Monaldo; the sacredness of writing, the sense of suffocation in the Recanati house (the «paternal hostel»); and then again the almost childlike stubbornness in eating ice creams even against the doctor's advice, the magnetic attraction that the Moon exerted on him, the burning and always frustrated desire to be loved. In short, the human fresco is articulated and well rendered by Elio Germano's interpretation. It is a pity that it lacks true in-depth exploration in the space of philosophical thought.

This selection produces an effect that perhaps is also the modernizing element of the Leopardi figure: the poet almost never appears as a first-class scholar, this dimension is treated but soon set aside; the lyrical and romantic character of his profile largely dominates. The rigor of his studies is shown in the part set in Recanati, but is largely subordinated to the existential problems of the young man. Consequently, it is difficult to believe his words when he says that his thoughts are not influenced by his physical sufferings: Martone shows them for long stretches, fills large spaces with images of physical pain and spirals of inexorable melancholy. It is certainly challenging for the viewer not to let this intimate and existential dimension prevail over the fineness of the thought and the vastness of his arguments, which almost do not appear in the film.

From an aesthetic point of view, the camera moves with great elegance in the Recanati scenarios, enhanced by a photography that aims to provide images of iconic distinctness, with sharp and powerful chiaroscuros, or quick swerves over fascinating natural landscapes as desolate as they are by the bitterness of the reflections developed there. The Neapolitan sequences also benefit from functional choices; one above all, the pervasiveness of an almost blood-red in the libertine nights, sublimated then by the image of Vesuvius erupting, a well-positioned final piece as a kind of caesura to the slow and frankly exhausting process of the poet's physical consumption.

The words of La ginestra benefit from an intellectual editing that is all the more necessary; it is there the profound sense of Leopardi's thought, in the image of planet Earth lost in the Cosmos. The immortal verses of his poems stand out directly in the immensities of the Universe. To represent the greatness of his poetry and thought, actors wouldn’t have been needed; only images of the Cosmos and its indifference towards humanity. Yet, Martone chose to narrate mainly the man; in his intent, he succeeds reasonably well, with a few gems that will have pleased the literati (the laughs he has when telling a friend about his Paralipomeni della Batracomiomachia) and overall a journalistic precision that wasn't so predictable. It should be said that the narration does not proceed gradually but takes two macro-sections and juxtaposes them, also taking away something from the evolution of the thought and giving prominence instead to the existential changes between the two different contexts. The resulting portrait is rich, multifaceted, clear; it is almost incredible that by selecting content so boldly, Martone was able to produce more than two hours of film without almost ever tipping into boredom, despite dealing with a biography that is not exactly adventurous. The director's skill is undeniable, but the choice to lean towards the human side, reducing philosophical issues to the bone, remains a significant problem that prevents the film from taking off.

7/10