I NEVER (or rarely) watch mainstream television (apart from Blob and news).

Last night, I was convinced to watch NATALE IN CASA CUPIELLO on Raiuno.

Who remembers (and who doesn't remember it? We've all seen it!) the late seventies performance by Eduardo De Filippo (and Pupella Maggio, and Luca De Filippo...) could only be biased.

First, let's say that this is not theatre or even theatre on television: it's a film, moreover set in another era (postponed by about twenty years).

Already reading "subject by Eduardo De Filippo" gives goosebumps. But who cares.

One cannot say that the film is bad. But it's not far off.

Detailed setting, beautiful colors, not bad sceneries, always great Marina Confalone and still talented Adriano Pantaleo.

Of course, Castellitto is also good, but in my opinion, he's out of character: he seems more Geppetto than Lucariello.

At times dramatic (at the end it borders on the ridiculous), often excessive, but not very credible and lacking all the range of comic, grotesque, and pathetic nuances written and embodied by Eduardo.

The real problem is that Eduardo is not Shakespeare, he is not Goldoni or even Pirandello. He is a great playwright and at the same time a great performer, unique in his kind, who could interpret a text tailored to him, enriching it with his own mask. The two roles cannot be separated.

This film, instead, is really something else. Let's say it's a starting point but not much more.

A comedy from the thirties set in the fifties with modern yet outdated acting and cinematographic treatment (and a musical ending by Enzo Avitabile absolutely out of place that gives the final blow).

More than the ghost (or protective aura) of Eduardo, it evokes Garrone and Ozpetek, sometimes even Scola of "La famiglia" or Monicelli of "Parenti serpenti."

It's not a bad film, for heaven's sake. And if it will bring young people closer to theatre and Eduardo's repertoire, so be it.

But the verve, spirit, and style of the great Eduardo are somewhere else entirely.

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