Around The World in 7 Hours – Part 2
Relationships are often excellent opportunities to impart wisdom about cultures you may not have any exposure to, and indeed throughout our relationship I have taken many opportunities to (re)educate Martin on Italian culture beyond the existence of Pizza Express, ‘gabagool’ and whatever else Hollywood has (not) taught him about Italy.
I had the best of intentions to break away from stereotypical interpretations of Italian culture left behind by films and shows like The Soprano’s and others alike. More than this, similarly to our trip to Korea, I was determined to showcase that the American’s are not the only ones who can do “funny”, and I endeavoured to find a film that would suit both goals. In retrospect, only one of these goals was met.
When thinking about Italian cinema, my mind could not help but revisit Monica Belluci’s absolutely iconic cigarette scene. I am sure many people will have come across this scene before without ever having watched the movie before, and so upon remembering it I decided that on our journey back West, our next stop would be a trip back to my Motherland, to Italy and the fictional sunny seaside town of 1940’s Castelcuto.
Italy - Malèna
Plainly speaking, the story of ‘Malèna’ is a voyeuristic, ‘coming of age’, tragicomedy narrated through the eyes of one horny tween by the name of Renato. Set against the backdrop of Mussolini’s fascist Italy, the film tells the tale of a war widowed woman (Malèna) who is damned for her otherworldly beauty and the film recounts the challenges she faces against envious town wives, inappropriately handsy husbands and WWII.
When watching the film, the overall portrayal of Malèna and women generally speaking, felt very problematic but it would be hard to escape this vision given the story is literally viewed through the eyes of a boy-man (Renato). However, Renato’s castigation for his depraved behaviour, from his outraged father and fretting mother served as a reminder to us as viewers of the exaggeration and ridiculousness of Renato’s actions (and that of the men around him) towards Malèna, and undeniably offered the comedic and somewhat conscientious relief we needed in between these ‘expressions of affection’, to put it lightly. Rightly or wrongly, in these instances of retribution and in others throughout, we really could not help but find ourselves often laughing out loud at the scenes of absurdity.
It is certainly telling that Renato, who envisions himself as Malèna’s defender of honour has learned all that he has on ‘manhood’ from the films he watches, and so he imagines himself as Malèna’s saviour in the form of a Cowboy, a Mob Boss and as a Gladiator. It speaks to the macho values that we have all been exposed to through tropes we have ingested from storylines since early childhood. These are ridiculously glamourised stereotypes, all within which Malèna is poised as the damsel in distress, despite her ‘real-life’ actions being to the contrary, as she continues to fight, alone, to survive her circumstances and in one rare moment, takes her chance to speak her truth.
Upon re-watching Malèna for the first time in years, I experienced the same level of discomfort I have nowadays from when I actually pay attention to the lyrics of old McFly and Busted songs about their teachers and coinciding peeping tom habits. Whilst I had come back for the beautiful actress, iconic scenery and easy-going humour, my sense of nostalgia had made me forget the ‘icky’ bits. As if the scene where on duty guards recognise each other through their farts in the pitch-black middle of the night was not enough to make me believe that this was definitely a film created by boys, for boys, Malèna barely speaks a word throughout the whole thing. Ultimately, she does not and cannot exist beyond her objectification despite her best efforts.
Malèna may not be considered the best cinema Italy has to offer, especially if you consider yourself a bit of an intellectual. In contrast to the calibre of drama and script writing that we are used to of today’s time, the films characters are caricature-like representations of men and women. For movie critics of the time (early 2000’s) from the BBC to New York Times, Malèna never scored well amongst them for this reason and Tornatore (the film’s director) was berated as a ‘budget Fellini’. Having said that, the film was nominated for Best Cinematography and Best Score at the Oscars (2001) and won out right respectively in these categories for the Italian National Syndicate of Film Journalists (2001) and for the David di Donatello Awards (2001).
Our viewing experience and the reviews of those left behind by most of the common folk of online forums and google reviews today tell a very different story to that of the critics. Despite my own raised eyebrows and critical commentary, when the film finished and I asked Martin “would you recommend this film to others?”, we both agreed it was a yes. For those who are not used to watching films in other languages, Malèna is a simple but impactful enough story line with an insight into how the war impacted the region, accompanied by golden shots of hazy coastal southern Italy, an immersive score, and an easy laugh. A great Friday night film, and an enjoyable pit-stop for our around the world tour.
South Africa – District 9
‘But to everyone’s surprise, the ship didn’t come to a stop above Manhattan, Washington or Chicago, but instead coasted to a halt directly over the city of Johannesburg.’ Whether it’s visitors from the cosmos, the undead, or Gerard Butler caught in the midst of one environmental disaster or another, America has seen it all and so, stepping into the shoes of Wikus Van Der Merwe in Neill Blomkamp’s big screen directorial debut is a rather refreshing, albeit alien, experience.
A skittish and feeble man, Wikus embodies the very antithesis to the stereotypical blockbuster hero and, having watched this film at too young an age, I thought I was a man watching big-boy movies. Having re-watched it recently, I see it now for what it is – a not so subtle allegory on the capacity of our species to drop and degrade any modicum of moral or human decency when faced with the other and the unknown.
Inspired by the Apartheid and, in particular, District 6, this documentary style take on how the world might ‘realistically’ respond to what equates to an extra-terrestrial breakdown above Johannesburg is a watch ill-suited to the squeamish. Those who have seen the works of David Cronenberg’s The Fly or Videodrome and thought, “no sir, not today”, should probably avoid this one as there is always more ick around the corner.
The stomach-churning prosthetics serve a higher purpose than the inspired gross graphics of Rick and Morty however in that I’m confident Blomkamp didn’t make this movie to produce crude laughter. A far cry from the little green men of the 50’s, the crustaceous design of the aliens can at times be hideous to look at, no doubt a deliberate choice to elicit feelings akin to those harboured by proponents of the Apartheid. Their crustaceous looks earn them the nickname ‘prawns’ and their experience parallels that of refugees and prisoners alike throughout history. Cutaways to clips of news footage following the arrival of the ship, through to the settlement of the ‘prawns’ in their UN established refugee crisis camp are frequent. ‘They’re spending so much money to keep them here when they could be spending it on other things. At least they’re keeping them separate from us.’
Later on in the film, scenes depict atrocities not so dissimilar to the detestable acts carried out under the likes of Project MKUltra and within the confines of Dachau and Unit 731, hosts to some of the most barbaric experimentation on human beings in recorded history. I strongly advise you not to look into these places or the experiments conducted unless you have an acute historical interest as the scenes are incredibly upsetting. Needless to say, the horrors we witness in District 9 are far from unbelievable.
All in all, District 9 is by no means an easy watch, but by examining the Apartheid under the lens of sci-fi, Blomkamp created a cult classic that serves as a stark reminder to the capacity for cruelty that mankind too often explores, and for that reason, I thought it worth visiting.
Mexico - Roma
Last but certainly by no means least, to those who like to swim in international waters, Alfonso Cuarón’s Oscar winning hit probably needs no introduction. Described as ‘a love letter to the women who raised him’, the film blooms in its efforts to portray an authentic vision of a 70’s Mexico City. Be it the casting of first-time actress Yalitza Aparicio in the lead role, due to her similarity in appearance and character to Libo Rodriguez, Cuarón’s own nanny of yesteryear on whom the role was based, or in the faithful recreation of entire swathes of Mexico City seen in tracking shots that sweep entire city blocks, the film radiates the feel of a time, place and life that most of us will never know.
The film follows Cleo, a dedicated nanny who is both within and without the middle-class family for which she works. Ripe with juicy class analysis content, the real success of the film comes from how intertwined the visuals and narrative are. Many shots are agonisingly slow to an audience raised on smash cuts, hastily narrated, exposition heavy freeze frames and plot turning perspective shifts (I’m looking at you, Guy Ritchie). Yet, if we endure the three-minute shot of a floor being mopped and allow ourselves to sink into the monotony of Cleo’s day to day routine, the drama that unfolds bears all the more weight and we see the woman that Cuarón loved as a mother in all but name. Hers is, for the most part, a slow and steady life, often overlooked and seldom valued; yet, like any good bedrock, she weathers time and tide and, as the credits rolled, I felt compelled to go and hug my mum. There is so much this film offers but like all good art, it speaks for itself.
Written by Clara Martinelli and Martin O'Malley
Clara Martinelli
Hi, I’m Clara. I’m an International Relations and Politics graduate currently doing volunteer work in London and looking to make my corner of the world a better place one step at a time. When I’m taking a break from being existential you can find me on the sofa watching police dramas and eating stupid amounts of pasta.
Martin O'Malley
Martin is a London based English graduate, currently working as a tutor. His claim to fame is that he won the Daily Mail Harry Potter lookalike competition in 2001, a feat he is yet to top. In his down time, if he’s not losing the battle against his ever-growing watchlist, he’ll be reading one King book or another.