L'imbalsamatore

It's a noir, no doubt... you even have the dark lady. Take three excellent actors, a well-chosen setting, a young and talented director, and you have L'imbalsamatore. Once again, when an Italian director is really good, like Sergio Leone, he can take an American film genre, turn it upside down and make a great Italian movie. However, Garrone proved how good he is not just by filming this, but by making another masterpiece, that is, Gomorra. If you like this one, try also the other movie. Basically one of the plots of Gomorra is set in the same places where L'imbalsamatore is set.

Another important element of the film is the landscape. When Italian directors are at their best, they can render landscape like no one. Garrone can do this with the wastelands of Northern Campania.

Hats off, then, to Ernesto Mahieux, who delivers an impressive performance that you won't forget easily...

"The Embalmer" (which is what the title translates as) is, in a sentence, about Peppino, a middle-aged Neapolitan taxidermist of stunted growth (verging on dwarfhood) who employs a good-looking young assistant he soon becomes obsessed with. Furthermore, Peppino has Camorra connections (the Camorra is Naples's equivalent of the Sicilian Mafia) and is employed by the Neapolitan mobsters to sew drugs in and out of their excellent cadavers. With its superb cinematography, photography, soundtrack and imagery (some of the scenes featuring dead, stuffed animals in the lab are unforgettably eerie), the film will be appreciated by anyone who loves a well-scripted, steady but confidently-paced, subtle little thriller that's never a crowd-pleaser.

The sense of impending danger is always very strong and real in the viewer's mind, though it never really lashes into sensationalist, gratuitous violence. In fact there's next to no violence or blood in this film and not one single Tarantinesque, gun-waving shouting match between mobsters scene: in fact you hardly ever see a gun in the film. In L'Imbalsamatore, anger IMPLODES and is the stronger and more threatening for it, and the human element is far more prominent than the formal crime element. Though obviously, its organised crime subplot (which you only ever glance at sideways) is pivotal in heightening the sense of threat in the film. But it never crowds the film, which simply isn't ABOUT organised crime. L'Imbalsamatore boasts a psychologically credible theme of obsessive love and attraction which would make Fatal Attraction look hollow and fake. It's also never distasteful and never, ever makes cheap use of the main character's semi-disability as a shock element. Also, unlike the crass Michael Douglas movie, L'Imbalsamatore's obsessive lover is vulnerable and human, as only someone who constantly holds his bleeding heart in his hand can be. But when said obsessive lover starts resenting that the object of his adoration has had the emotional upper hand for too long, things can get REALLY scary. This is especially true when the spurned lover, any spurned lover has major Camorra connections, and the chestful of treasures he's been so selflessly offering his beloved is being dismissively waved away for the umpteenth time! You really get a sense of all the characters playing with fire in L'Imbalsamatore, which is why it succeeds in creating a sense of suspense which just never lets up (and yet never climaxing when you expect it to).

The film is also invested with genuine humanity and is never judgemental or moralistic. It moves us to sympathy towards the obsessive and love-lorn character, who despite his physical appearance and potentially lethal reactions, is invested with true pathos and dignity. His tears are bitter and no different from those of any other lover, no matter how good, handsome or psychologically healthy. And that's precisely why he's so scary.

Please watch l'Imbalsamatore: it really deserves more international acclaim.

A neat little gem, this movie. Not the greatest, but yet, approaches with a careful plot, the relationships between several people. Shot in outdoor location of Castel Volturno, a grayish wintery concrete condominium on the coast between Rome and Naples, and using direct sound and not the usual studio-added dialogues, it gives an immediate feel and support for the main character, Peppino, who, feeling lonely, convinces a young man to follow him into his trade of taxidermy. Peppino is a virtuoso in establishing relationships, and like a magician, he moves his hands and talks big without really revealing much, and gets the young man's attention. It reminded me a bit of "L.I.E.". Would love to see the actor and Danny de Vito in a movie together.

A vision of the psychological extremes that unrequited erotic obsessions can create, L'IMBALSAMATORE has a deceptively placid surface.

Peppino, a dwarfish, homely-looking taxidermist with horrible teeth, takes an interest in Valerio, a gorgeous young man who is biding his time unproductively as a food runner in a cheap restaurant. Peppino takes Valerio on as assistant, even though he can't really afford it, and Valerio is overwhelmed with gratitude for the mentorship. But Peppino's attitude soon begins to take on uncomfortably sexual and possessive overtones, that everyone except Valerio sees - at first.

L'IMBALSAMATORE has an opaque atmosphere of unease. Like THE VANISHING, much of it is shot in cheerful, sunny daylight, and there is plenty of light-hearted humor; like MONSIEUR HIRE, you can't be sure if what seems creepy is your own prejudice or a genuine malice.

Matteo Garrone builds the erotic tension to an almost unbearable intensity. This is an audacious picture that plays with perception and memory; we can never be sure if what we are seeing is really happening, or occurring only in Peppino's twisted fantasies, or in Valerio's bewildered daydreams. Reality and fantasy blur. L'IMBALSAMATORE is feverish and spellbinding.

Matteo Garrone's deeply morbid subjective reflection from Italy is an insightful musing of two characters, and then a third which works as an agitator. The short man finds the tall man at the zoo, where he is watching a vulture. The short guy, named Peppino, is a sweet talker. He's about 50, balding, under 5 feet tall. The tall guy, named Valerio, is a head turner, about 20, attractive, over 6 feet tall. As they struggle to recall where they've met before, the perspective periodically shifts from the humans to the vulture, a bird that survives by detecting dead meat. The picture is mangled, the sound is dampened, and we get an inverted look of the bird blinking its eyes. Valerio says animals are his strongest interest. Funny, says Peppino, they're also his. He is a taxidermist.

Peppino, with a light manner and a genial grin, is a beast of prey who likes to entice young men with his money and favors. Valerio, who is told extraordinary things about his Adonis-like looks, is not very smart, and likes to be charmed. Peppino works by artifice, taking Valerio to clubs and hiring hookers for parties; the two friends end up in bed with the girls, and Valerio doesn't see that for Peppino, the girls are the snare and he is the sitting duck.

The Embalmer is adept at camouflaging its real essence and rattling us with the shifts of the plot. Among the movie's charades are not all overstated, but eerily implicit. Does Peppino see himself as a homosexual, or as a philanderer who likes good buddies and is open-minded in bed? Does Valerio know Peppino wants him? Does Valerio favor Peppino's money or Deborah's abundant sexual skill? Is Valerio totally retarded? Twice he infuriates Deborah by standing her up; he continues go along with Peppino's insistence upon just one more time. Is it a defect or an advantage of the film that we don't always know what occurs? Another intended question I think, as we ponder over Valerio, a babe in the woods who, when he's not with the one he loves, loves the one he's with, if he loves at all.

This incredibly unsettling and implacable experience takes place largely in Italian beach towns, but in a gray season, against chilled, steeled skies. The sea is nonetheless far away and dejected, and Garrone's images bleed the life out of some scenes. The music is a sobbing, deeply haunting jazz abstraction. This is not a comedy or a sexploitation pic, but a prurient matter concerning two obsessed pursuants and their prey, whose physicality may have made life such a breeze for him that he never got the dexterity to live it.

It may sound absurd that a balding old midget could seduce an apparently heterosexual young Apollo out of the arms of an insatiable woman, but after Deborah checks Peppino out, she knows she has to take him seriously. What the short man wants, he goes after with skill, guile…and desperate longing. And it's compelling to watch him maneuver.