Mario Monicelli
La Grande Guerra

Austrian officer: Liver they say... They only know Venetian liver with onions. And soon we'll be eating that too. So... Where?

Giovanni (Gassman): What do you mean, what's that got to do with anything?

Austrian officer: Pardon?!

Oreste (Sordi): Ah Giò?

Giovanni (Gassman): Stay calm!... And so listen, since you talk like that... I really tell you nothing! Got it? Face of crap!

Who is the hero? The concept is certainly broad and varies depending on what one means by hero. Generally, a hero is identified as someone who does beautiful things for the people they love, for their nation, for their country, and out of a spirit of altruism, pays their heroism even with their life. I remember a few years ago, an Italian mercenary in Iraq, before being executed by terrorists, died saying he was proud to die as an Italian, and he was awarded a medal for civil valor. Many mourned him as a hero, but I obviously do not share that view. The hero is not someone who opens their shirt in front of the enemy's musket and dies fearlessly. By this, I do not want to stir up controversies, surely the aforementioned "private soldier" had an admirable exit, this is without doubt, but accrediting him the title of Italian hero seems misplaced to me.

Perhaps I have a wrong idea of the concept of a hero; to understand what I mean it's enough to read the correspondence letters of poor very young Italian boys who, forced into the trenches, wrote to their wives who heroically waited for them and fought their war of hunger and misery. Oreste Jacovacci (Alberto Sordi) and Giovanni Busacca (Vittorio Gassman), two slackers forcibly enlisted to defend the borders with Austria during the first conflict, are regarded by everyone as lazy and cowards. The two poor soldiers do everything to survive and desperately try each time danger arises not to be caught face-to-face with the enemy. In two hours, Mario Monicelli portrays a slice of 20th-century history by combining the dramatic picture of war of poverty and deprivation it entails, alongside the tragicomic portrait of two average Italians caught in it. I do not exaggerate when I say that it is the most beautiful, most truthful, and touching war film I have ever seen. World War I was, as we have all studied in school, a trench war where young men were thrown into disorder and forced into nerve-wracking waiting, a kind of death row where hopes of staying alive diminished day by day depending on the enemy sniper's precision. For Busacca and Iacovacci, it was exactly like that, and day by day seeing their comrades decimated and realizing the family drama their deaths caused: This is evident when the two, on leave, meet the wife of comrade Giuseppe Bordin, unaware of his death, who asks them to send him some supplies from her. The poor soldiers do not have the heart to report her husband's sad fate but give her all the money they had to spend on their precious day of freedom.

The film is a succession of epic episodes and alternates typical moments of Italian comedy, with Sordi and Gassman mastering the underline of typical regionalism, to moments of pure drama. But many topics are addressed: primarily a denunciation against the ferocity of war, both for violence and misery. But also topics such as solidarity and brotherhood that unite very different people but who share a devastating drama. Monicelli (with the invaluable help of the Age-Scarpelli duo in scripting) is a master in this, there is no film of his, even on the more comedic side of his production, where a teaching of undisputed social value does not emerge, hidden by an irony more or less subtle. Films like "La Grande Guerra" should be taught and studied in schools, their historical and artistic value today is of absolute richness for our cultural heritage. At the end of the film, the duo Iacovacci and Busacca make their heroic gesture the sense of the film, and here comes the famous story of the hero: Captured by the Austrians, they are accused of being spies and therefore destined either for execution or for release in exchange for revelations on the placements of their brigade. The two cowards accept the proposal, but an overly mocking remark by the colonel about their (and all Italians') lack of guts awakens Busacca's pride, who insults the Austrian colonel and gets executed, the same does the trembling Iacovacci, who does not shout “Here’s how an Italian dies”, but screams, cries and nonetheless reveals nothing. Who said that heroes are daring? Quite the opposite: a hero is one capable of a gesture of pride and revenge despite being worn out by fear. Every time I watch the ending of this film a shiver runs through me.

Of course, masterful interpretations by Sordi and Gassman, but also by a splendid Silvana Mangano, each with their own story and precise role, giving that choral effect dear to Monicelli. Worth noting is the presence of Romolo Valli in the role of Lieutenant Gallina, and a young private with an unmistakable voice: Ferruccio Amendola.