Nanni Moretti
Il Caimano

By taking extreme positions, two conclusions could be drawn: a) Nanni Moretti is an excellent director and a very talented actor; b) Nanni Moretti is a dangerous communist-like anti-democrat. Personally, I would lean more towards the first option, in fact, I wouldn't even consider the second one. And just because a film was released vaguely concerning Silvio Berlusconi during election time doesn't mean he's an arrogant communist (despite the many Berlusconi’s cronies, from Bondi to Schifani to Fede Emilio, think exactly this way). This is especially true, seeing that in countries more democratic than Italy, see the United States of America, anti-Bush films abound, from "Fahrenheit 9/11" to "Death of a President" and no one dreams of censoring them or labeling them as 'examples of subversive cinema.'

"Il caimano" is not a subversive film, because it doesn't talk about Silvio Berlusconi (it barely touches on him) but about society and workplace death, a theme dear to Cocteau. A failing producer, the wonderful Silvio Orlando, after years of great success (his mythical films like "Mocassini assassini" and "Violenza a Cosenza"), opts to revive a career otherwise on the brink of collapse by giving in to the persistence of a young director (Jasmine Trinca) who offers him a bizarre screenplay that seems to criticize a well-known political figure. Bruno Bonomo, the producer, will only later realize that the political figure the young woman wants to delve into is Silvio Berlusconi. Trouble looms.

Moretti focuses all his attention on Bonomo, his relationships with his wife and children, the compromises with actors, producers, and the cinema world in general, the myriad difficulties in shooting even the simplest scenes. Bonomo is not Moretti, but he is very close: troubled, a little fearful and perplexed, indecisive, stressed, he seems like a representation of the early Moretti, the one who had to roam a thousand production houses before finding someone interested in distributing his films ("Io sono un autarchico," "Ecce Bombo"). Around him moves a rather petty and mean world, mostly populated by crazy producers, out-of-their-mind actors (an unusually good Michele Placido), and a Frenchman, who during a pool swim, utters a sentence that is the essence of the entire film: "Voi italiani siete un popolo strano... scavate... scavate... siete sul fondo e continuate a scavare" (You Italians are a strange people... you dig... dig... you are at the bottom and keep digging).
The world of cinema, made of miseries and nobility (as Totò would have said), made of human caricatures and caricatured humans, with the fear of not wanting to bother anyone, and the desire to get back into the game. Memorable is the scene where Jasmine Trinca reveals to Silvio Orlando that she is a lesbian: in the blink of an eye, it seems the film will never be made. Because workplace death is always lurking around the corner, daring means risking everything and ending up empty-handed, one can fall from a scaffold and die, walk a tightrope without a net below. And a reflection on cinema and society: is cinema today keeping up with society? It seems not, Moretti seems to tell us, given that, rather than producing a political film, major studios are satisfied with yet another celluloid version of Christopher Columbus. Moreover, this grand underlying idea is a great Morettian invention; no Italian director had ever dared the undared: making a film and speaking poorly of the cinema world. Or at least, no one had ever done it with such force.

So, is it a dramatic film? No, not quite. The catastrophes that Silvio Orlando encounters are often very amusing, sometimes almost ridiculous. Priceless when he tries not to take his children to see "War of the Worlds" (a very Morettian scene, speaking ill of a film during a film, had already happened in "Caro diario"), but the opening, showing snippets of a trash political film starring Bonomo's wife, the talented Margherita Buy, is equally hilarious. Citation or mockery? Both.
In this film about society, human relationships, and cinema within cinema, it's no coincidence that the weakest moments are those about Berlusconi. Moments that, if removed from the film, would make the whole equally beautiful and acceptable. There are three portrayals of Berlusconi: Elio Capitani, who doesn't lean into caricature but appears quite convincing; Placido's, ironic and funny; and Moretti's final depiction, apocalyptic and cruel. These are moments set within the film, like dreams, like memories, but they have the disadvantage of dampening the film's pace and, underneath, serve little to no purpose. The weakest is especially Moretti's final Berlusconi: a long monologue to say obvious things (relations with government allies, anti-democratic left, the racism of the League) and an apocalyptic end with flames destroying the Tribunal of Milan, which seems more like a lowly revolutionary thesis, ill-suited to the elegant and sophisticated film.

However, the weaknesses of the Berlusconi scenes help to understand that "Il caimano" is not a political film, but rather a film about the Italian social reality within the vast and slick world of tricolor cinema. The decision to include the character of Berlusconi (the real one also appears) seems more a sensationalist advertising gimmick, useful only to rake in a few extra euros and a bit too much controversy. Those who think this is Moretti's most political film are wrong ("Palombella rossa" indeed was), here we are in other territories, halfway between a critique of the Italian system and an accusation of the cinema world. Almost a Morettian autobiography, a little less explicit than "Aprile" and a bit more harsh than "Caro diario".