La stella che non c'è

"The missing star", who competed for the Golden Lion at 2006 Venice Film Festival, is a film that, when you think about, the first adjective that comes to your mind is: intense. Intense looks, intense sequences, this movie's intensity captures the viewer since the very first scenes at the steelworks, in Italy (I couldn't recognize the city, maybe Genoa or even Naples), although the pace is quite slow.

Vincenzo Buonavolontà, the male lead, and with him, all the audience, sees a completely different China than a normal Westerner imagines: horrible high-rise building with about 8 hundred flat owners inside, skyscrapers, desolation, fog, scrapers and cranes everywhere, but also the beauty of the Yangtze Kiang river, that will soon become a big lake because of the controversial dike that will wipe a lot of towns out. China is a country under construction, but, under all these colossal public works, there are still poverty, backwardness and unfair laws.

We can relate more easily to this story because Gianni Amelio, the expert director, chose two phenomenal leads: Sergio Castellitto, a well-known actor in Italy, and the Chinese surprise Tai Ling, a total unknown girl that gives an as intense interpretation as Castellitto's.

The film is not perfect, there are some flaws here and there, but that doesn't mean it's a mediocre film. Try to see it.

Based on the best-selling novel "The Dismissal", The Missing Star, the latest film by acclaimed Italian director Gianni Amelio, is the story of the growing friendship between an older Italian maintenance man and a young interpreter he hires in Shanghai to be his guide through China. Vincenzo Buonovolonta is the Maintenance Manager at a steel mill in Italy that has been shut down and the blast furnace sold to China. When Vincenzo (Sergio Castellitto) discovers that a control unit in the furnace is defective and potentially dangerous, he travels to China to find the steel mill where the part has been sold in hopes of preventing a fatal accident.

The film, of course, is about the journey not the destination to use a familiar cliché and, on that journey, we are privy to an engaging look at China with all its immense beauty and complexity, via the outstanding cinematography by Luca Bigazzi. The film takes us to Shanghai, Wuhan, Chongquing, Baotou, and a trip along the Yangstze River showing us coastal areas that are scheduled to be flooded when the Three Gorges Dam is fully operative, a Chinese mega-project that has resulted in the displacement of 1.2 million people. The trip brings the travelers face to face with poverty, overcrowded housing, and children left to fend for themselves.

The film revolves around the relationship between Vincenzo and translator Liu Hua (Tai Ling) who first meet in Italy where his impatience with her translations at a dinner meeting causes her to lose her job. When he tracks her down in Shanghai she is working at a library and resistant to Vincenzo's approach. Looking at his offer to help him in his travels in China as little more than a well paying job, she reluctantly agrees to accompany him. Their relationship, however, grows as they move from city to city, her interpretive skills much in evidence to help the bewildered Vincenzo who does not own a cell phone.

As they slowly open up to each other, they expose each other's vulnerability and the film delves into their past and present life and how they arrived at their present situation. We meet Liu's son (Lin Wang) at the home of her grandmother. In China's one child policy, he is one of the unwanted children who have been "hidden" since the father of the boy abandoned the family. Although the meeting between Vincenzo and the boy is casual, their relationship becomes central to how the story plays out.

Castellitto is an excellent actor (though one longs for a younger Enrico Lo Verso in this role). However, he is emotionally distant throughout the film, his expression rarely changing from a far away hangdog expression. Though Tai Ling brings a great deal of presence to the role, her relationship with the much older Vincenzo never seemed real to me and the ending seemed to exist only in a reality known as the movies. Though Amelio is one of my favorite directors, coming on the heels of the brilliant Keys to the House, Missing Star is a disappointment.

This is a wonderful new movie currently still showing in cinemas in my country. Its director, the Calabrian Gianni Amelio, is in my humble view perhaps the only contemporary Italian director, along with Nanni Moretti, to deserve being called great (that is, apart from the old masters who're still around and occasionally still churning out movies). It's one of my greatest regrets that contemporary Italian cinema has been ailing since the mid-70s, mostly due to a dire lack of funding and nurturing of new talent, something which can be transferred to most fields and which makes Italy one of the most static industrialised countries of our time production-wise (both in an industrial and cultural sense)... unlike, say, China. And this, among other things, is precisely the subject of Amelio's latest movie. Few directors can speak to me about the true, present state of my country and the world as Amelio can, yet his pictures also have a precious timelessness and universality. And for those already worrying that they may be slow, ponderous and worthy - rest assured: of the ones I've seen they most certainly aren't, at least not if you're used to quality European cinema.

The basic plot outline: Vincenzo Buonavolontà is a technician at an obsolete steel plant factory somewhere in Italy, probably the North. He is played by Sergio Castellitto, one of contemporary Italy's most versatile and talented actors. When a major Chinese steel company purchases some of the Italian steel plant's industrial machinery, Vincenzo, who struggles to make himself understood with the non-Italian speaking Chinese director, tries to tell him that the machine is defective and its converter needs substituting, an element he's working on custom-building himself. He warns them that not doing this might have very dangerous consequences. Meanwhile a young Chinese woman called Liu Hua acts as interpreter between the two men, but seems to struggle to find adequate translations for some of Vincenzo's technical jargon. The Italian eventually loses his patience with her, virtually pushing her aside and asking her to hand him the Chinese-Italian dictionary so that he can do the translating himself.

Despite Vincenzo's warnings, the following morning he finds that the Chinese factory director and his employees have returned to their own country while not heeding his advice about the adequate use of the industrial machine at all. Thus Vincenzo, equipped with his great integrity, sets off for China. And here begins an endlessly fascinating road movie through China, a very topical 21st century Odyssey through the Asian Giant. A latter-day Marco Polo's quest for the secrets of the mysterious nation? Not quite. As in all of Amelio's movies, the journey itself becomes far more important than whether its ultimate "mission" is carried out or not. In fact, the way in which the point is literally brought home, not without a touch of humour, is a lovely, poignant paradox and irony, which made my eyes well up while I was simultaneously smiling. The spectator is let in on the secret that Vincenzo's trip was ultimately completely useless, but he himself doesn't know it, and goes home a satisfied man, a deluded innocent. At least, you figure, he's happy. Sort of.

The journeys that Amelio's characters embark on totally uproots and strips them down to their bare, human essentials. They are momentarily without name, status or someone to put in a word for them. These Theo Angelopoulos-like themes are also explored in Lamerica, actually my favourite Amelio movie, closely followed by La stella che non c'è in order of personal preference. In the 1994 movie Lamerica, two Italian racketeers travel to Albania to "do business". Just like Vincenzo, they intend to go there, do what they have to do and then go back home. Instead, one of these two Italians accidentally ends up on an almost Homeric journey through this devastated land just after the fall of Communism.

But let us go back to La stella che non c'è: once Vincenzo is in China, he predictably discovers that the seemingly "simple" task of handing the converter to its new owner is anything but straight-forward. The piece of machinery's new location is seemingly almost impossible to determine, unless he embarks on an arduous journey through China. When he comes across Liu Hua, the young interpreter he'd mistreated now working as a librarian, he tries to speak to her but she reacts in a hostile manner, informing him that because of him, she'd lost her job as interpreter back in Italy. Played by the relative newcomer Ling Tai, Liu Hua soon becomes a Virgil to Vincenzo's Dante when she grudgingly figures that she could do worse than to act as guide and interpreter for the Italian on his trip (obviously for a consistent sum of cash). This young Chinese actress may not have the beauty of Ziyi Zhang, nor the movie star glamour of Gong Li, but her charming, expressive and pretty face oozes a combination of defiant strength, intelligence, dignity and wry humour that'll make her features difficult to forget once you've seen the movie. Furthermore, she and Castellitto have wonderful emotional chemistry as co-stars.

Amelio weaves dramas that are serious, poetic, mythical, post-neo-realist and humorous all at once, while maintaining a heart-warming ability to explore the fleeting essence of humanity in everyday, commonplace circumstances. A documentary-like naturalness conceals what is actually a meticulously conceived tapestry of faces and places, a vista which also manages to incorporate a cinematography of breath-taking beauty. The photography here is functional yet gorgeous, as befits a movie on the displaced in an industrial and emotional wasteland.

Amelio's observant eye is a grown-up, disillusioned one, yet also never a cynical or misanthropic one. The masterful camera angles also often gives a sense of Vincenzo's alienness in the eyes of the Chinese, bringing home a sense of objectivity and cultural impartiality that's very rare in movies about a "familiar" Westerner exploring an "unfamiliar" non-Western country. I cannot recommend this movie enough.

Another great film by the Maestro. The only disappointment was not seeing Enrico Lo Verso in this role. Yes, Sergio is a good actor, yes, Kim Rossi-Stuart is a good actor but they are not Enrico Lo Verso when it comes to Gianni Amelio directing. Lo Verso seems to be the only current male actor who is completely at ease with this director. Amelio and Lo Verso bring out such subtle brilliance in each other, keeping secrets, unanswered questions and unspoken agreements are their specialty. I'm sure that Amelio and Lo Verso are tired of hearing this but it is a fact of reality. Together they make masterpieces. I'm seeing too much Sergio right now and I can't tell the difference in character from one film to another. Kim is a brilliant actor but in "Le Chiavi DI Casa" he seemed to be distracted by something.

Based upon the novel The Dismissal by Ermanno Rea, in essence the story's about the slow friendship that develops between an Italian maintenance technician Vincenzo Buonavolonta (Sergio Castellitto, who can be seen as the villainous King in Prince Caspian, and was the lead in Bella Martha) and a Chinese translator Liu Hua (Ling Tai). They set off actually on the wrong foot, with the former chastising the latter for her inaccurate, and slow translations of what he wanted to tell a Chinese delegate who had bought equipment that is faulty. Vincenzo wants to do the right thing, which is rare in these days, and that is to tell the prospective buyers upfront the faults as well as the intricacies that their purchase would bring, and given that he's disturbed by the fact that the deal still went ahead, he takes time off to craft a component that would set things right.

But that also means to travel to China in search of the elusive machine, which proves to be well hidden, and seemingly having vanished without a trace. With the initial reluctant help of Liu Hua, they set off in this treasure hunt from city to city, which brings us to lesser seen sights of China, away from the Beijings and the Shanghais, to cities like Wuhan, with industrial like backdrops such as steel mills and nuclear plants with their smoke stacks dotting the scenery. The mighty Yangtze River also makes an appearance. Along the way, the usual trappings of such travelogue styled movies come into play, such as the learning of culture, ideals, food, and basically, the understanding that the world is without strangers, if only one makes an effort to try and connect. While hints of some romance between the two leads are suggested, it rarely made itself to be a moot point, until perhaps late in the movie (hey, opposites attract, no?)

Besides the major industrial plants and factories, We get to see various cottage industry, like seamstresses working in sweat shop like environments, and I believe Cotton too, along with noodle making. As a film, it provided me the travelling opportunity without leaving my seat to observe, and credit to it for not passing judgement from a moral high ground on exploitation and the likes. And kudos too for the movie to engage in dialogue based on the characters' native tongues, rather than (and I shall not name names here) some other movie / cross-cultural collaborations where dialogue is forced-dubbed and came off unnatural, and truly irksome. Some might deem the supporting characters to be too kind too, always opening their arms and doors to a foreigner, but I would like to imagine that maybe in the more rural areas, people in general tend to be more sincere, friendly and basically not get caught up in the rat race to trample on others, or be trampled upon.

If there's a message to take away from the movie, besides the fact that I mentioned that the world is without strangers, is a reminder to myself that some of the stuff I deem important, may not be so to others. Importance is something one places upon something else, and its basis really depends on how we define the boundaries we set. So given our finite lifetime, I think I should lighten up a bit more, live and let live, and sometimes bask in the illusion that ignorance could be bliss.