Mike Nichols
The Graduate - Il Laureato

There is all the indecision of a new society coming forward in Ben's improvised choices and whims, as well as in Elaine's impulsive reactions and unresolved doubts. But there is also the decline of the educational role of parents, adults who no longer represent positive models, quite the opposite. And I'm not just referring to Mrs. Robinson.

Fifty-six years later, "The Graduate" remains a refreshingly contemporary film. Sure, in some ways, the language has changed from 1967 to today, and not for the better. Those linguistic quibbles, those continuous contradictions and ambiguities, perhaps represent one of the best aspects of Nichols' film. Because although the graduate protagonist does not follow a strictly upright morality, he at least brings out all the issues through the discussions he has with the experienced lover, when he confronts the mother, or even just by the fact that the adulterous encounters take place in the dark. The woman's silence is the embarrassment of immorality.

The words, redundant, confused, far from the truth, convey all the difficulties of a generation that finds itself lost, mainly because of adults who are too accommodating, comical, unable to impose any rules. Dustin Hoffman floats in his pool, and the parents are almost embarrassed to ask him for a change. Somehow, his maturation journey must clash with the most egregious errors to finally be directed onto the path of normality, of true feelings, not those arising merely out of boredom.

But when Ben finds love, the adults (and particularly Elaine's parents) do not support his life project. Quite the opposite, they hinder it to satisfy their personal thirst for revenge, each for their reasons. In the young man's wanderings in search of his beloved, all the desperation of a generation is represented that, enjoying too much freedom and prosperity, finds itself despising everything, almost not knowing what to do, but ultimately, after numerous mistakes, discovers the value of deep desires. He thus finds the energy, carries out a small rebellion just to realize them.

Little Dustin is almost annoying with his stunned, deliberately flat, inexpressive grimaces. A big baby who ultimately finds his inner strength, despite parents like that. Katharine Ross well represents Elaine's sweetness without malice, just as Bancroft is memorable as the embittered woman, the shrew living in luxury but yearning for a new, vigorous carnal pleasure.

The direction builds perspective cages and altered visions to remind us of the invisible prisons in which the characters are trapped, to underline the almost hallucinatory life from boredom of a young scion from a good family. It's beautiful when the door opens, and between the two young faces appears the austere and malevolent face of Mrs. Robinson. Not to mention the sensual leg of the woman in the foreground overpowering Ben's figure, as if nailing him to the logic of physical pleasure.

A memorable soundtrack by Paul Simon that colors the events with melancholy (but towards the end also with euphoria), while the Alfa Romeo Duetto races through the streets of America. The comic and ironic vein permeates much of the scenes. Because we are now in a world of jesters, too light, superficial, apparent. There is no true catharsis. Love and society seem rather a farce, but in the midst of it, there is always real life and each one's feelings, even if it might not seem so.