Silvano Agosti
Nel più alto dei cieli

I was looking for a shocking film, one that could compete, for example, with the extreme Salò or the 120 Days of Sodom by Pier Paolo Pasolini. My choice fell on In the Highest of Skies, the fourth feature film by the director from Brescia, Silvano Agosti, made in 1977.

I had been on the trail of this film, which had remained hidden and invisible for a long time due to its blasphemous and provocative content that, in the Italy of that time, caused an outcry. Fortunately, a well-known platform made it available and, as they say in these cases, I tried to seize the opportunity before it was too late.

In the Highest of Skies can undoubtedly be classified as that political, protest cinema that, between the Sixties and Seventies, had among its exponents the aforementioned Pasolini, but also Luis Buñuel and Elio Petri. It is one of the strangest and most weird works ever made in our country, although some flaws, in my opinion, prevent it from reaching the models it takes inspiration from (but it is not certain that it really tries).

The story is set in Rome at the end of the Seventies, a city divided between leftist unrest and Christian Democratic immobility. In this context, halfway between faith and Marxism, a delegation of fourteen people goes to an audience with the Pope. In the group, there is a bit of everything: priests, nuns, politicians, children, a rather varied mix of lay and religious people. After the customary pleasantries, the company enters a spacious elevator to go up to the upper floors and be welcomed by the Pontiff (because a Pope can only be above, as one of the characters says). And that’s when the unexpected happens, the plot point that turns the dream into a nightmare, Paradise into Hell.

One of the members presses the UP button, and the elevator, apparently in motion (the number of floors increases to absurd numbers), gets stuck, preventing the unfortunate from getting out. It’s the beginning of a journey that leads to the depths in which the human being can sink. The first panic attacks evolve into madness, into the delirium that drives men and women to commit abominations of all kinds, from pedophilia to murder, until they reach an animalistic regression that has little to share with the innocence of the scenery and the orations broadcasted over the intercom (or maybe it does, who can tell).

Despite the excellent intentions and the power of some shots (the close-ups on increasingly emaciated, demonized, dying faces), In the Highest of Skies is a film that can be considered only partially successful. First of all, the political discourse is unclear: if in Salò fascism becomes a metaphor for the abuses of all power (which is instead anarchy, as Pasolini reminds us), here the discourse is too tied to the post-sixties period and comes across as dated, at times sketched out. Also, the choice to shoot many scenes in a single setting does not pay off in the long run: the contrast between the aseptic elevator, full of blinding lights, and the bestial actions of the characters is appreciable, but it must be said that the kammerspiel mechanism has been managed better on other occasions. Finally, it is impossible not to mention the hastily put-together ending, perhaps imposed by the production to avoid problems more severe than the fourteen years the film was banned (fourteen, like the members of the delegation).

Beyond these aspects, In the Highest of Skies strikes for its attempt to depict a brutish humanity which, placed in a situation of evident difficulty, succumbs to feral and antisocial impulses. A note must also be made of the soundtrack by Nicola Piovani, characterized by lounge and relaxed sounds that, paired with some terrible scenes, convey a strong sense of estrangement.

In conclusion, the fourth work of Silvano Agosti does not fully achieve its goals, yet, while resulting inferior to the contemporary works of Pasolini and Petri, it will intrigue lovers of underground visions. Like myself.