El inocente

love often used misspelled abused love taken for a selfish game manipulating shame

he loved himself apart from that a selfish search for someone to confirm he is what he only pretends to be

was she crazy or insane was her love so true she bared the pain for her it was no game and yet she lost...

beautiful movie, timeless! delightfull to see how this movie takes his time to tell a story, the script is strong, the music emotional, the actors impressive, I can only write down positive aspects, thanks to visconti's perfectionism and talent this movie became more than a traditional story about love and hate. the thin line between the beauty of the movie and the manipulating selfish desire of the story creates a strong emotional masterpiece that will no one left untouched

The languid pace of Visconti's last film is not a problem for me. He was an old man, directing from a wheelchair, and had slowed down a lot. Think of it as the long slow movement of a symphony by Mahler - whose music, you will remember, he used in Death in Venice - and it will make more sense.

What I want to know is more about Gabriele D'Annunzio's novel. One commentator claims that the male lead is a kind of 'atheistic hero' faithful to his beliefs, and that Visconti subverts the author's intention by showing him as a rich aristocrat as selfish as he is unpleasant. Can any authority on Italian literature shed any light?

I saw "L' Innocent" in the mid-eighties, at at time when I was discovering a lot of Visconti's films from his last period ("Death in Venice"--my favorite--, "The Damned," and "Conversation Piece") It made a very favorable impression then; but I do agree with the viewer who dwelt on the languid pace of the film, highlighted by the sensuous musical score. What saddens me is that not one of the viewers commenting on the film --I have little to add regarding the plot, and am trying to avoid spoilers-has remarked that it is based on a novel by Gabriele D'Annunzio (né Gaetano Raspagnetta), the most popular and yet one of the most aristocratic "fin-de-siecle" writers in turn-of-the century Italy. Visconti, the majority of whose films are based on European 19th and 20th century novels, was extremely faithful to D'Annunzio' book, down to the morbidest details. D'Annunzio was a sensual man and what was regarded in his day as a "decadent" poet and novelist. His scenarios were usually luxurious, his characters were often relentless pleasure-seekers, albeit dissatisfied in their passionate search for the ultimate fulfillment of the senses. Tullio, the character so intensely played by Giancarlo Giannini, is a would-be Nietschean "superman", beyond good and evil, as "L'Innocent'(the novel) was inspired by the Italian poet's readings of the German philosopher.

Despite the slow pace of the film, I believe "L'Innocent' to be one of its director's most characteristic achievements. The glowing beauty of its female stars (fragile, yet alluring Jennifer O'Neill and earthy Laura Antonelli)and Giancarlo Giannini's seething intensity alone make this movie a worthwhile experience for cinema lovers who favor art over technology and substance over mindless, noisy violence.

Could we qualify a movie as Ardent? I think so, at least I do when remembering this film. Maybe it's because of the smoldering story it tells, maybe because of the passionate characters temperament, maybe because of the gleaming beauty of the surroundings, the extremely luxurious interiors of upper class old noblesse, with their incredibly gorgeous 'Fin de Siecle' gowns and jewels and objects and music... What a superb film!

Jennifer O'Neil devastatingly beautiful and seductive as the self-assured, selfish, spoiled, ambitious, self-seeking lover, as much as Laura Antonelli as the opposite side of the coin but in a lower key, as the humble and insecure, betrayed, embittered, resentful wife, but also devastatingly gorgeous. And Giancarlo Giannini, holder of the most beautiful male green eyes ever shown on a close up, and adding to that his fantastically sensuous voice.

We end up watching this ultra-refined European product that only a Visconti and very few other directors (Kubrick with "Barry Lindon") could have had the exquisiteness of taste to produce.

The libretto is first rate and overwhelming in its slow development (and that makes almost unbearable the unpredictable climax) leaving us almost as devastated as its female protagonist, when she walks away while an early dawn starts defining the outline of the magnificent garden surrounding that incredibly perfect building where life had just ceased to exist.

A wealthy and arrogant aristocrat openly has an affair with another woman, thus driving his wife to start her own affair with a writer that leads to a pregnancy and baby. Giancarlo Giannini is magnificent in a role that instills in the viewer zero sympathy and outright hostility. The film heads into what can only be described as one of the most memorably tragic conclusions since Shakespeare, and is also one of the most beautifully filmed and costumed movies ever, with sumptuous deep red wallpapered rooms with velvet curtains. Wealth and position can cut both ways, with Giannini's role going down into a dark and bankrupt morality that in the end is like a swamp.