Das Mädchen mit dem leichten Gepäck

Although Claudia Cardinale didn't achieve Sophia Loren's renown, there's no denying that she's an equally great actress. An example is "La ragazza con la valigia" ("Girl with a Suitcase" in English). The subtlety that Valerio Zurlini instills in the movie helps move this story of an accidental love triangle along at just the right pace.

It's the sort of movie that deserves a lot more recognition (especially given the current glut of franchise-driven cinema). I'm now hungry for other movies directed by Zurlini, or other Italian movies from this era. In the meantime, it's definitely a movie that you should see.

Valerio Zurlini (1926 - 1982) is a somewhat forgotten director with a small oeuvre (8 films).

In "Girl with a suitcase" the 16 years old Lorenzo Fainardi (Jacques Perrin) falls madly in love with Aida Zepponi (Claudia Cardinale) who has been dumped by his older brother. This older brother has started a brief affaire with Aida by promising her a film career.

During most of the film Lorenzo seems to be the victim of the opportunistic Aida, who gladly accepts his gifts and monetary donations. In a key scene a priest, as a sort of oral conscience, reproaches her for this behaviour.

The real tragic character however is Aida herself, who is using but also being used by men and therefore very dependent on them. We see this very clearly in the beautiful final scene.

The film starts very slow and only gets underway in the second half. Claudia Cardinale, who was at the peak of her career ("Rocco and his brothers", 1960, Luchino Visconti / "8,5", 1963, Federico Fellini / "Il gattopardo", 1963, Luchino Visconti), really makes this film.

There are moments in this film when you feel your feet lift of the ground and you enter a pure state of movie nirvana. Only the Italians could bring together style, elegance, poise, wit, sensitivity and irony like this, and play it out in the real world with real characters. The amour fou seems original: the sensitive ingenue is nobility (Jacques Perrin), while the girl (Claudia Cardinale) - his older brother's cast-off - is an impoverished drifter. It's not so much the obvious contrast in their backgrounds that provides the tension so much as the directions their yearnings take, that flash across each others' paths like ungainly swordsmanship. The fresh faces of the leads are a delight. It's really the quiet dignity of Perrin that carries the film while Cardinale is the sudden whirlwind that blows into his life. Technique is employed to brilliant effect: the waist-level camera, Zurlini's signature artistic shadows on the walls, and, most tellingly, the way distant characters gradually draw close to our position, a trick established with the first shot of the film. There's no finer kind of cinema.

I watched this together with Eastwood's "Million Dollar Baby." I knew I would be challenged by that film (you can read my comment), and I wanted something that I knew would be a safe island after the offenses therein.

I chose this. Its between "Million" and "Nights of Cabiria" and more perfect than both in my view. The spine of this film is a story of a prostitute/dancer, an adventuress with few skills for the job. We see some encounters that provide insights, not into her character so much, but what limits her, and that matters because we discover many of those same limits in us.

Its a good film, largely forgotten today because its merely competent and not showy or overtly experimental as so many from that block were. But if you want an antidote to those bad films of good men, come here.

It has the economy of Eastwood, in fact this very tradition is where he learned his directorial craft. But its economy directed toward conveying the environment, the context in which our two characters find themselves. It's geared to the context not the actors, who after all can only tell you what is in themselves, not is what is in their world.

It has the depressing rootlessness of those early Fellini films, but it emerges from the real world we see instead of being an overt essay on what we know is Fellini's perspective that starts from the very beginning. This emerges.

Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 3: Worth watching.

One of Cardinale's defining work in her early career, GIRL WITH A SUITCASE is director Zurlini's second feature, an eye-pleasing Black-and-White melodrama centres on the dead-end obsession, which a young rich boy Lorenzo (Perrin) projects on Aida (Cardinale), a penniless nightclub showgirl, who has been dumped by his elder brother Marcello (Pani).

In the movie, Lorenzo is a 16-year-older, having barely arrived puberty, Aida is his first crush, which symbolises the most innocent and pure affection a boy must experience once-in-a-lifetime, propelled by unquenchable impulse, he is willing to do anything for her, and will surely swallow the bitter taste since their relationship can bear no fruition, the age barrier, the class disparity, all appear too formidable for Lorenzo to overcome, and Lorenzo is so good-natured and is too obedient to rebel against the unfair and prejudiced society. When we are young, we might meet the right person in the wrong time, maybe this is what Zurlini wants us to ruminate on.

But more relevant to contemporary audience, the film tends to be preferably reckoned as a strong showcase for Cardinale, debatably the very first one for her to stretch her limit as an actress in spite of her drop-dead sex appeal. Also later it reveals that Aida has been entering motherhood in a fairly early age, which mirrors Cardinale's own turbulent personal life of being a mother at the age of 19. Her Aida is a sultry damsel-in-distress, but the reality offers her no prince-charming, only leery chancers want to physically overtake her, in a critical point, she has no alternative other than agreeing to prostitute herself, we should feel empathetic to her, but that feeling is not well- sustained, since Aida is clearly aware of Lorenzo's blind fixation, and she has no qualms to cash in on it, and being brutally honest about their doomed future. The script dangles sluggishly in the cul-de-sac, to an extent of being patience-testingly sentimental, the two-handers between Cardinale and Perrin often oscillate between generic theatrics and amateurish spontaneity sans scintillating chemistry, which inadequately sets the tenor in a lukewarm limbo.

On the plus side, the film occasionally coruscates with its dashing panning camera movements, indicates that DP Santoni is a master-hand behind it; also the soundtrack is a winsome collage of classic pieces frequently played with harpsichord, builds up a solemn mood for the harsh reality where money becomes the only opt-out for something intrinsically superior to all the material concerns.